101 Kisses
by I-Heart-Star-Trek
Summary: Rose Tyler and the Doctor. Kissing their way through time and space. Nine, Ten, and Tentoo appear the most frequently; but don't be surprised to see other familiar faces...
1. Starlight

Rose leaned against the Doctor, legs dangling over the edge of the TARDIS doorway, eyes staring enraptured into the ethereal, radiant stars. Her gaze shifted, following the Doctor's hand as he pointed to the nearest nebula, and gasped. The Rose Nebula; aptly named, for the spiraling gas deeply resembled the Earth flower. Rose looked back at her Doctor, smiling. She leaned in, and before she consciously realized it, softly pressed her lips against his. "Thank you," she whispered, hardly daring to break the serene silence. The Doctor said nothing, kissing her forehead softly as he gazed at the swirling dust that reminded him so much of his 'pink 'n' yellow' Rose.


	2. Four of Diamonds

"We did it!" Rose exclaimed, delighted.

"Yeah," the Doctor grinned, tucking the card inside his jacket pocket. They had just found the 'four diamonds', as described by the head Game Maker, or rather, the four **of** diamonds. However, they had not been one hundred percent certain that the volatile Hoth would allow them to leave, even though they had fulfilled their half of the bargain – find the four diamonds and the two could leave, provided they never returned. The Hoth had been extremely wary of the Doctor, bestowing the ominous name of 'Oncoming Storm' upon him. Not that Rose minded leaving; contrarily, she was happy to be gone, off to a new world. "Rose?"

"Mmmm?" She replied absent-mindedly. The Doctor whispered something into her ear and, reddening ever so slightly, pressed his lips to her cheek.


	3. Words

If there was one thing that was constant with the Doctor, it was his habit of babbling. Sometimes, Rose could hardly slip a word in, even had she wanted to. She loved listening to the Doctor as he rambled about alien worlds and humans, even when Jack found it quite dull and left for elsewhere in the time machine. Today was no different. Except...

Rose walked up to the Doctor and gently placed her finger against his mouth. The Time Lord, startled, grew silent and smiled down at her – Rose knew that it was now or never. She pressed her lips to his; wordlessly conveying everything she had ever needed to tell him, every hidden emotion surfacing as she clung to the man who had changed her life. The kiss deepened as the Doctor wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer until he felt her single heart beating against his. Entwined together, they sank to the ground and she laid her head across his chest. The Doctor remained silent and tentatively kissed the top of her head. All the languages he knew were insufficient in comparison to the events that had just transpired. That one kiss, saying everything words could not, showed them everything either had ever needed to know.


	4. Strawberry Jam

"You've got a little something."

"What?"

"Something just here..."


	5. Green Tea

"You know, when you said we were going for Green Tea, I was thinking Ancient China or something."

"But this is so much better, yeah?"

"Not really, no." Rose turned to face the Doctor, who was beginning to pout at her response.

"Tea, that's green!"

"I'll show you tea that's green," and pushed back when the Doctor suddenly pecked her on the mouth. "Down, boy! Whotcha do that for?" She asked playfully, beginning to run her fingers through his messy hair, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Oi! I take you travelling through all of time and space and this is the thanks I get?" The Doctor pushed his glasses to the bridge of his nose and looked Rose over. "Come over and apologize," he teased, arms opened wide. Rose hesitated only a second, sipping her tea to steady herself, before burrowing into the Time Lord.

The Doctor grinned and leaned down to kiss her, wholly surprised when tea spattered over his suit. Rose appeared properly shocked, though he knew it to be partially faked.

"I suppose I ought to have set my tea down first, eh?"

"Rose Tyler!" The Doctor spluttered. Rose only smiled.

Rose kissed his cheek, licking the tea that was dribbling down his face and softly rubbing his now damp sideburns. "I suppose we'd better get you cleaned up," she stood, pulling the Doctor up with her. "To the TARDIS."

"Allons-y, Rose Tyler." The Doctor winked as they set off, clasping hands, to the TARDIS.


	6. 72 Hours

"Doctor, I'm fine." Rose protested, swinging her legs over the side of the bed.

"Rose, seventy-two hours ago, you were, well, stone." The Doctor eased Rose back onto the mattress.

"I know," Rose sighed, exasperated and bored. "That's been, what, four days. It's loads of time." She grabbed the Doctor's hand, feeling it, rubbing flesh against flesh. "Way you are, people'd think you were the rock."

The Doctor laughed. "No, that one's all you," he joked, pulling the sheets around Rose.

"You're tucking me, then? So where's my goodnight kiss?" Rose teased, sitting back up and puckering her lips.

"I've never given you a goodnight kiss before..." the Doctor tilted his head, a mischievous smile forming on his lips.

"About time you did then," Rose breathed into his ear, before pressing her lips to his.

A/N: Kudos to anyone who gets the Stone reference!


	7. Lingerie

"Rose," the Doctor bounded happily into her bedroom. "You'll never guess where the TARDIS –"

Rose turned around. "Doctor! Ah, I think your ship left this on the bed..." She gestured at what she was wearing, while trying to stay somewhat modest.

The Doctor felt his face flushing slightly. She was so beautiful (for a human!) and the... clothing delicately accentuated her features.

"She does that. One reason I'm rarely in the closet," he managed to say, trying to say casual. The Doctor smiled, hoping for the cornball grin he had always worn last regeneration. "You look... nice."

"It's too much." Rose faced the drawers again, pulling out a summer dress.

The Doctor walked forward and wrapped his arms around her from behind. "Er, very nice," he kissed the back of her neck.


	8. Mistranslation

"No, no you've got it wrong. My name is the Doctor. This is Rose. We've come to help."

The aliens garbled at each other, the TARDIS translator picking up bits and pieces as it acclimated itself to the new environment. Finally, the one who appeared to be the leader grabbed both Rose and the Doctor by the hands and started propelling them forward.

"Told you I'd get through to 'em," the Doctor grinned cheekily, folding his arms against his chest, his Northern accent thickening smugly.

"I never doubted it," Rose laughed. "Where do you s'pose we're off to?"

"Not a clue," the Doctor replied happily.

They arrived in a long, majestic hall filled with more aliens, each seated at various tables like at a fancy dinner party. Rose and the Doctor were led to a table elegantly set for two. Apparently the aliens were having a sort of celebration; Rose and the Doctor were greeted merrily by all, even by one who Rose assumed must be a sort of religious leader or the like. S/he/it spent nearly fifteen minutes talking to the pair before asking what seemed to be a serious question. Rose smiled and nodded to all the questions, glancing up at the Doctor who seemed to be enjoying himself to make sure she wasn't agreeing to anything that had the potential to become disastrous. The grin slid off the Doctor's face.

"What is it?" Rose asked, suddenly concerned.

"Those... Those were weddin' vows," The Doctor looked at Rose, anxious about her reaction. He had just married her, his pink n yellow human. He loved her, he knew now, but what were her feelings towards him?

Rose bit her lip, a smile half-formed. "You may now kiss the bride," she offered lightly; Rose was surprised when the Doctor leaned in and kissed her cheek softly, hesitantly, his lips lingering just a fraction of a second longer than she thought he'd be comfortable with. And smiled.


	9. Fancy Dress

"Is all this _really_ necessary?" The Doctor groaned.

Rose frowned. "I don't get it. You wore a suit all the time before... before this regen." She searched for the word the Time Lord had used the first time she had seen him regenerate.

"It's your fault. You're the one who bought these...skinny jeans." He winked, casually hooking his thumbs into the belt loops of siad jeans, smiling.

"I already compromised your outfit! Mum would've had you in a black tuxedo, bow tie and all." Rose pulled off his tee shirt, trying not to laugh. "Come on, then."

The Doctor shrugged into the dress shirt and started buttoning.

"I trust you can tie a bow-tie!" Rose called from the other side of the open wardrobe. The Doctor could see her jeans drop to the floor.

"Of course I can! You don't travel all round time and space for nine hundred years without learning how to dress." He watched as the tee shirt, then (eyes widening) the bra fell to the floor.

Rose stepped back in front of the bed. "Zip me up?" Her hair was already swept into an elegant bun. The dress' zipper was long, starting past her bum and, once fastened, would allow the dress to hug her curves in all the right places. The Doctor placed a hesitant hand on the zipper and pulled the fabric together.

Rose could feel the Doctor's hand on her back, folliwng the ascending zip. "There's a, uh, clasp on the top, if you wouldn't mind." After fastening the hook, the Doctor slowly spun Rose around.

"You look beautiful," he smiled softly. Rose leaned in and wrapped her arms around his back. The Doctor bent his head and softly kissed her cheek before whispering lovingly into her ear: "for a human."


	10. Pebbles

A/N: I don't know if this makes any difference, but I figured maybe I'd just tell you guys which regeneration of the Doctor I pictured for each of the chapters thus far.

Starlight: Ninth  
Four of Diamonds: Tenth  
Words: Tenth  
Strawberry Jam: Tenth  
Green Tea: Tenth  
72 Hours: Tenth  
Lingerie: Tenth  
Mistranslation: Ninth  
Fancy Dress: Tentoo  
Pebbles: Ninth

They stepped out of the TARDIS together, automatically reaching for the other's hand.

The time ship had landed on a planet completely new to Rose (the Doctor had visited once, lifetimes ago); the soft roseate clouds reflected over the still, sparkling waters that gently lapped the iridescent pebbled beach.

They walked along the lake in serene silence, neither wishing to break the seemingly magical effect that the surrounding landscape evoked, when the Doctor suddenly stopped, picking up what appeared to be a random rock (in actuality, he had been distractedly scanning, searching, for the perfect pebble; distracted by the way the silvery moons illuminated her face, distracted by the soft pressure of her hand clasping his, distracted by his pink n yellow human).

He turned the stone round in his hand, quietly thinking. He should tell her. It would be the perfect setting – the scenery practically screamed her name, why would he take her here?

He turned to face her, flashbacks of memories filed under Rose Tyler flying through his mind (mostly of her smiling, smiling in a way he had never seen before, a Rose Tyler smile, with her tongue poking out between her teeth as she laughed).

"Rose," he started uncertainly, still looking out on the water as he felt her gaze shift. He hesitated, saying nothing more; instead, he pressed the transluscent quartzite into her palm.

She leaned against him and he wrapped his arm round her.

"It's beautiful," she murmured.

The Doctor said nothing, merely pulling her closer and softly pressing his lips to her forehead as they gazed out at the shining waters.


	11. Valentine's Day

The Doctor frowned. "Rose, be reasonable. You should spend some time with your mother."

"We _did_ spend a whole afternoon with her, not two days ago." Rose pouted, twirling her hair round a finger. He was up to something, he was. The TARDIS groaned as she materialized outside the Powell Estate.

"_Go_. Jackie'll wanna see you. Say hullo to Mickey the Idiot." The Doctor picked up the telephone, waving it threateningly. "Let me call her and make sure she knows your on your way," he smirked.

Rose sighed. There was no way she was winning this one. "Fine." She walked towards the door and opened it, stepping outside the small, yet infinite, blue box. She looked at the city, the people everywhere, and reached automatically for the Doctor's hand, turning around to see the TARDIS disappear, when her mobile buzzed. 'See you in a bit ;)', the message next to a small blue box read. Rose half-smiled, and dialled Jackie's number.

"Hullo?"

"Mum, it's me. How are you?" Rose bit her lip, mentally kicking herself for not just coming out and saying that she was outside the estate and wanted to know if Jackie was at home.

"'M fine, sweetheart. Is anything wrong? You never call me out of the blue." Jackie's voice sounded wistful.

"Nah, just wondered if you were at home. Only, the Doctor just left me here for a, for a visit." Rose hated how her voice sounded so faked. "Guess he needed an afternoon to himself or something." She invented, hoping her mother would understand.

"Well, if you're in London right now, and I mean in the present, why don't you come over for a cuppa?" Jackie pronounced, delighted that she would finally be able to spend an afternoon with her daughter without that Time Lord. Not that she minded him (in fact, she was secretly very pleased about the relationship her daughter had with that alien, not that she'd ever tell the Doctor that she fully approved of him), but it would be nice to have a day just her and Rose. "You can tell me everything that you and that Doctor have been up to," she finished cheerily.

"Ten minutes ok, then? He parked on the other side of the estate," Rose rolled her eyes.

"Just enough time for me to put the kettle on," Jackie replied, smiling.

DWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDW

The Doctor smiled, picking up a small, pink heart shaped locket. The markets of Renaya IV had always been a favourite of his. In fact, he had stopped there on many occasions, often with a companion who fancied a look at something exactly like this - an alien space market.

The locket was actually made of a material similar to white-gold and hung upon a delicate chain of the same metal. The smooth, blank surface was to be engraved upon, he noticed. Pulling a piece of paper and a pen from the depths of one of his pockets, the Doctor wrote two sentences, one for each side of the locket. "How much?" He asked the attendent, a Catkind of New Savannah.

"Eighty-six pleebles." She stared at him.

"Ah, yes. Um, how about a trade?" The Doctor asked her. "I haven't any pleebles on me...Tell you what, can you hold onto it for me?" He began emptying his pockets, searching for something to trade. A pack of cards, banana chips, a toque, a Beatles CD, two tickets to see Franz Liszt...He pulled out a tin of catnip. Odd, he didn't really like cats. He was about to continue his search when the Cat stopped him.

"The locket for the deneashes." She pawed the catnip.

"For the...deneashes." The Doctor pretended to think it over. "Weeellllll, alright then! Here are the deneashes, ma'am."

"Your necklace, sir," she replied good-naturedly.

"Thank you," he smiled and exited the market. There was only one planet he'd even consider bringing this locket to, to have it engraved upon.

DWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDW

The Doctor stepped back into the TARDIS, tucking the newly engraved locket safely into the breast pocket of his suit. Now, he just had to wait for the perfect moment.

DWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDW

"And that's really all that happened," Rose insisted, interrupted by the groaning of the reappearing TARDIS.

"You're going to finish your tea," Jackie pointed back at the chair threateningly. "We're having a right, proper visit. If he wants to stay, he can but he's not going to whisk back into that spaceship without finishing tea." She glared at the Doctor as he stepped out of the TARDIS, beaming. "You better be keeping her safe."

"Of course," the Doctor looked from Jackie to Rose. "What's that about?"

"Nothing," Rose said hurriedly. "Mum, d'you want me to put the tea away?"

Jackie's expression softened. "S alright. Go on, back that box with you. Explore the galaxy. And don't forget to write!" She teased, though hoping the Doctor would bring her back soon. Rose hugged her mother before following the Doctor into the TARDIS.

A/N: Hope your enjoying the story! Just a quickie here - can't believe how long this is getting. Think this is my longest chapter for this story by far - even has a plot and everything! Thanks for reading. Anyway, back to the TARDIS!

DWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDW

They sat on the floor, legs danging out the door, staring out at the infinity of stars. The Doctor, still staring at Rose, finally worked up his courage and pulled the small box out of his pocket.

"You know, there are actually about eleven saints who share the name Valentine," the Doctor said the first thing that came to mind.

"Mmmm," Rose leaned her head against his shoulder, gazing out into the sky.

"The date of Valentine's day also isn't necessarily February fourteenth. At least two Earth religions celebrate in July." He hinted, hoping she would understand what he was trying to communicate. Today was Valentine's Day.

"Rose," he finally said. She turned and looked at him.

He opened the box and lifted out the necklace.

"Doctor...it's beautiful," Rose breathed. He motioned for her to secure her hair as he gently clasped the hook together, his fingers touching her neck leaving the short hairs raised in anticipation. She twisted back to thank him and was caught off guard by just how close their faces were. She could see every hair on his face, his stubble beginning to grow in, his breath hot on her lips, and, unconsciously, leaned in closer. The Doctor, not entirely caught off-guard, smiled in anticipation.

It wasn't fireworks. It wasn't a fiery explosion as if the world had just been born. It was sweet and tender. Their lips lingered over the other's, hesisitant at first. It was over in the blink of an eye, yet lasted an eternity.

I love you.

Rose Tyler and the Doctor.

He'd tell her what the circles meant. What words were engraved on the hearts. What was seared onto his hearts.

Forever.


	12. Who?

"Doctor," Rose made her way back to the bedroom from the adjoining bath. At the sound of her voice, the Doctor sat up from beneath the covers, where, she saw, he was reading an Agatha Christie mystery.  
"Rose," he smiled, putting the book down. It was only then that he realized she was crying. "Rose," he whispered tenderly, her name catching in his throat. He reached forward and pulled her onto the bed with him. "Tell me," he wiped away a falling tear with his right thumb.  
Though the tears had begun to subside, Rose found that she still could not speak. Instead, she gently took his hand from her face and slowly slid it downward; past her neck, over her breasts, Rose rested it over her stomach. Her slightly rounded stomach.  
"How long?" He asked quietly. Rose shook her head. She didn't know. The Doctor's mind was a whirlwind. He was going... or was he? It was possible that the child could be the Time Lord's. His other self's. The Doctor pushed the thoughts away. He was the Doctor. He was married to Rose Tyler. And yet... Pushing the thought aside, the Doctor smiled, burying his face into Rose's hair. He kissed her forehead, lightly trailing his lips down her face, hands resting on her belly. 


	13. Street Scene

"We've materialized," the Doctor announced to his three companions, turning to look at the viewer. "Earth, by the looks of it."  
"Oxygen, nitrogen, carbon dioxide...Grandfather, the atmospheric gases nearly match." Susan called, opening the doors so that they could have a look.  
Ian and Barbara exchanged excited, yet cautious looks while the Doctor walked out the door. He looked up and down the street, beckoning his companions to join him.  
"Well, it certainly seems like Earth, but what is all this?" Barbara stared, incredulous.  
"Hmmm... Late 1980s, early 90s I believe." The Doctor thought, idly watching the people. A young girl sped past the group, blonde hair flying as she fuirously pedalled her red bicycle along the sidewalk, followed by a boy approximately the same age. As she rounded the corner, the handles faltered and the bike began to tilt. The Doctor made to turn back to the TARDIS crew but, for some strange reason, he found himself going to check on the little girl. "The child could be hurt and I, for one, certainly do not see any adults around," he reasoned. "And I am the Doctor." And he did have experiences with hurt children; it wasn't as if his own had never gotten into mischief. He smiled as he approached her.  
"Are you hurt, child? You took a bad fall off that bicycle there." Her knee was badly scraped, faint bloodstains coloured her dress.  
The girl scowled. First that man with the weird bow-tie and now this old man, running up to her after she fell off her bike like they'd never seen a kid do that before. The other man called himself the Doctor, too, she remembered. She stood up, pushing the confusion in her head aside.  
"Yeah."  
"Ah, here's the problem. You caught your dress in the chain here, my child." The Doctor smiled as he worked it free, careful not to tear it.  
"Does it hurt?" He inspected the injury. Scrape, shallow, not bleeding. She'd be fine before the hour turned. The girl nodded. The Doctor pushed her blonde hair out of her face and wiped away the falling tear with his tumb. "Don't cry, child, it's only a scratch." He looked around. "Is that your mother?" She nodded again, kissing his cheek before walking to her mother, leaning on the bicycle. 


	14. Jealousy

"You're jealous!" Rose couldn't believe it, her mouth quirking upward.  
"I am not! But in cas eyou hadn't noticed, this is a police box. Police Public Call Box, not snog box." The Doctor folded his arms and turned to face Rose, his head torch still shining.  
"We weren't - I kissed him. He kissed me! We weren't snogging!" Sometimes, the Doctor really got under her skin. "He is my boyfriend," she reminded him, crossing her arms.  
"He's an Idiot," he muttered, closing the floor grate and putting the torch back into his pocket.  
Rose stared at him. He was jealous. Of Mickey. Which meant... Rose's eyes widened. Slowly, she crept over to him. "Doctor," she began, when he suddenly bent down so that his passionate blue eyes were the same height as hers.  
"Rose," he murmured softly leaning forward and kissing her. Rose, her body automatically responding, kissed him back. She pulled him closer and whispered his name. Their lips moved against each other, trying and failing to synchronize their movements, each exploring the other. His hands encircled her waist, hoisting her on top of the TARDIS console. And hers, gripping his shoulders, liking the way they stuck to his leather jacket, pulling him closer. 


	15. Lullaby

Rose snuggled closer to the Doctor. Outside, at work, or as part of the Estate, he was 'Doctor Tyler' or even simply 'John Tyler'. But here, in the privacy of their bedroom, he was always the Doctor. He smiled down in Rose's hair, glad she, at least, was sleeping. Part human, part Time Lord, the metacrisis Doctor did not need as much sleep as his human wife. However, where he could once go days, even weeks on occassion, without it, he now need a solid, uninterrupted block of REM sleep. Beside him, he felt Rose jerk awake. Instantly, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer.  
"Rose," he whispered. "Rose, it's okay. Shhh..." She was silently crying, her tears sliding down her face and across his chest. Panicking slightly, he did the first thing that came to mind. He began to sing. The young TARDIS in the corner of the room hadn't yet matured and so did not translate the Doctor's song. He rocked Rose gently as he quietly sang a lullaby. The lullaby. The one his mother had sang to him as a baby. The melody he crooned to his own children. The song he had whispered the first time he had held his granddaughter. A part of his culture, simply known as 'the lullaby of Gallifrey'. 


	16. Bubbles

A/N first of not one, not two or even three but FIVE new chapters!

"Sort of domestic, this," the Doctor half-scowled. They were walking along a bubbling creek, its clear waters sparkling with reflections of the suns.  
"You picked the destination, remember? I was in the kitchen." Rose shook her head, smiling as she patted the picnic basket. "If you wanted adventure, you should've flown us somewhere else. Now, you're stuck here with me." She looked around, thinking about how pretty this planet was, with its turquoise creekbeds and silver-white trees. It almost looked too perfect, the trees growing parallel to the river on either side. "I think it's beautiful."  
Not as beautiful as you, the Doctor thought.  
They walked in silence, each content in their own little bubble (though they did have their hands linked, it was purely out of habit... partially, anyway). The Doctor found himself sneaking sideways glances at Rose, more and more frequently. Jus' want to make sure she's having a good time, he told himself, always quickly averting his gaze. He never saw Rose eyeing him in the same fashion.  
In time, the Doctor and his Rose came out to where the running water pooled into a still, serene lake. Reaching into his pocket, the Doctor pulled out a tightly folded package and unrolled it. He set the cabana up swiftly and unzippered the door.  
"There's a, uh, small selection of bathing suits from the TARDIS' closet in there if you feel like a dip," he said after a moment.  
"Mmmm, that does sound nice," Rose agreed. The riverside walk, while thoroughly pleasant, had very warm and she could feel small beads of perspiration beginning to run down her back. She lifted the flap out of the way and stepped inside. The cabana, like the TARDIS, was bigger on the inside. Rose looked at the variety of bathing suits and closed her eyes. With this much selection, she could afford to be picky. A white top, patterned with pink flowers came to mind and, upon opening her eyes, Rose found that she had a hunch as to where in the array she might find such a top. Sure enough, she found the same top, albeit with ruffles on the cups. Close enough. Grinning, Rose grabbed a plain white, high-waisted bottom. She changed quickly, eager to rejoin the Doctor. She slipped out and found that he was already standing in the water, his leather jacket neatly rolled up and sitting atop his trousers, beside his boots. Rose dropped the towel next to them and waded out to join the Doctor, where he was floating on his back in a pair of black swimming trunks. As she got closer, Rose realized they were covered in little yellow bananas.  
Rose leaned back, the salty water easily supporting her like a mattress. The bubbling water felt amazing against her back and she closed her eyes a moment, allowing to sensation to briefly occupy her full attention. Her hand drifted sideways and found the Doctor's, and they lay in the lake, staring (mostly) up at the alien sky.  
She sensed, rather than felt, the Doctor take her other hand and soon they were upright, though still buoyant. She leaned against him, momentarily wondering why the leather jacket wasn't sticking to her face, when she felt the Doctor's heartbeat against her cheek. It was odd, yet comforting pattern. He shifted and, perhaps it was because of the water's density or a hidden, unconscious desire, Rose wrapped her legs around the Doctor's waist to keep them from floating to the surface.  
The Doctor and Rose were in a very sensual, very compromising position.  
And his rough, chapped lips were pushing against her smooth, soft ones. He could taste her strawberry chapstick as he ran his tongue over her lips. His hands firmly grasped her bare shoulders as her arms encircled his naked waist. Their three hear beats accelerated in anticipation. She moaned, pulling him closer as their lips slid with their passion. She felt his breath hot on her face and breathed in deeply. He tasted like bananas, some distant part of her mind noted.  
Just as suddenly as it had started, it was over. Rose cuddled close to the Doctor, resting her head once more on his chest as they lay together in the warm aquamarine waters.


	17. Gravity

Harnessed to the interior of the TARDIS, Rose floated through space. Like her body, her mind was wandering; she marvelled at the colour and the stars and the sheer immensity of the empty space all around.

"_We_'_re_ _falling_ _through space_, _you and me. Clinging to the skin of this tiny little world__…" The memory filled her mind – for the briefest moment, Rose could almost smell the chips that had distracted her and the Doctor just after that._

_ A sharp jerk on her line brought Rose back to the present. She spun around slowly twisting and began swimming back to the Doctor._

_ She slowed a minute and grinned. Pushing her weight forward and down, Rose began summersaulting. She waited until she had reached a decent speed, then straightened briefly before smoothly vaulting forward, as if swinging off a rope (bronze in gymnastics, she thought briefly). Weightlessness was an amazing, indescribable sensation._

_ It was only when she saw the TARDIS hurtling towards her that Rose realized exactly how fast she was moving. Her pupils dilated, her breath became ragged with fright. She was going to crash into the TARDIS._

_ "Rose. Rose, oh come on." A Northern accent, sharp with worry, faltered. A gentle, calming hum briefly filled the short silence. "Yes, I know it's normal for a human. But what if there's internal damage that's not showing? What if I've lost her, Sexy? She's not a __normal__ human."_

_ Her eyes would not open. She tried moving her lips, but only managed a faint moan. She swallowed. "Doc-tor."_

_Tell her, my Thief__. The Doctor turned, electric blue eyes lighting up as he saw Rose finally awaken._

_ "I thought I'd lost you," he whispered, pulling her close. She said nothing, burying her face into his jumper._

_ The Doctor was amazed how long she clung to him._

_ He slowly brought his face down, even with hers. Cautiously, anxiously, and tenderly, he cupped her cheek and leaned even closer to her so that their foreheads touched. Her eyes were still cast downwards, but she titled her head back and brought her lips to his. It was a soft, yet passionate kiss and the sweetest moment he had ever experienced. It lasted forever and ended too soon._

_ The TARDIS hummed contentedly, watching her (now healing) Wolf and her Thief._


	18. Twice

"No! Doctor, stay with me!" Rose's voice faltered. She clenched the Doctor's hand in her own, practically lying on the bed with him.

His weary eyes met her desperate ones. "We've had…a good life," he murmured. "Lives…"

Rose swallowed the lump that was rising in her throat. "Can't argue that," she replied shakily.

He smiled at that. "Rose…" he hummed. She lay her head on his chest, listening to the pitiful beat that was his single heart.

"I love you," she said suddenly. "I always have, you know." She stretched forward, lightly brushing her lips against his. He responded automatically, smiling.

"I know." He paused, shuddering through the drafty hospital gown, fighting for his breath. "Rose Tyler, I-" The heart monitor flat lined and Rose buried her face into his chest.

"Doctor!" She kissed him wildly, running her lips over every inch going up to his face. "Doctor, come back! Come back!" She was quiet, her voice gradually rising into a panic. "DOCTOR!" Her lips became frantic, searching for a response, as the tears threatened to spill. She was vaguely aware that she was still screaming his name.

They must have heard her. Suddenly, they were transferring him onto a stretcher. "No," she sobbed, hiccoughing, blindly reaching for him.

"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Tyler. I'm afraid that Mr. Tyler has passed on," the young physician told her. Rose heard the words, meaningless phrases. It meant nothing. She stared glassily at the…she couldn't call the black woman a doctor.

A nurse entered the room. His eyes went from the exiting stretcher to the physician to Rose. He started talking, but she couldn't hear him. The tears spilled over and she left them comfort her. She had lost him, again. But this time, she had no one. Rose shattered.

A/N: I'm sorry. I am so sorry. But once I started thinking about this, it had to be written. Obviously Tentoo and Rose, back in Pete's world. And I had the thought, what if. And then I got to thinking more what if. What if Martha and Rory worked in the same hospital? Long shot, I know. But they never met the Doctor. They found jobs at the same hospital. What happened to all the companions that never were in the parallel world?


	19. Windy Days in an Oversized Shirt

A/N: So for this one, I combined two prompts and had a longer story! Yay! Ten/Rose with Janto! Also, there are four new chapters up today.

Rose shivered, drawing her jacket tighter. "Remind me why you can't just park in the Hub?" She chattered, longing for shelter from the storm.

"Come on, it's not that much further. Besides, I was under the impression you were dying to see Jack!" The Doctor whined, pulling Rose through the snow. "And I told you, I parked her on the Rift to re-fuel." Nothing could spoil the Doctor's sense of adventure.

"Right now, I'm dying for a cup of Ianto's coffee," Rose grumbled good-naturedly. She breathed a quiet sigh of relief as she spotted the Tourism Centre, the front disguise of Torchwood Three. Another gust of bitter cold wind swept across the plaza, blowing the snow across the pavement and Rose found herself huddling against the Doctor's long coat.

"Oh, come here," the Doctor opened the coat and Rose pressed herself tightly against his warm body, losing her balance as the lift began sinking beneath the pavement. He bent down, smoothing the hair out of her face, his fingers wet as the snow melted. Rose laughed and began running her fingers through his snow-soaked hair, slowly restoring it to its former state of sticking-uppy glory. His fingers trailed lightly down her face and Rose felt herself relax. She stretched up, standing on the tips of her toes so that her eyes were level with the Doctor's, and grinned mischievously, her tongue poking out between her teeth. He slid his hand back up so that he was cupping her cheek and let the other drift to the small of her back. Their foreheads touched as they gazed at each other, their expressions simultaneously softening. Their lips had just met when the door began to roll open. Sighing slightly, Rose broke the (extremely) unchaste kiss, settling for grabbing his hand.

The Hub was deserted, or so Rose assumed until the Doctor pointed out the mood lighting emulating from Jack's office. Suddenly a klaxon sounded. Both Rose and the Doctor jumped (only slightly!) at the unanticipated noise, as the Doctor whipped out his screwdriver and turned it off just as the office door opened and Jack stepped out, hurriedly snapping his braces into place.

"I think we might've interrupted something," Rose giggled as the Doctor grinned and shouted hello.

"Don't you two ever call?" Jack skipped down the stairs.

"TARDIS is refuelling," the Doctor told him seriously.

"Guess that means your mobiles are down," Jack shot back, laughing. Ianto slipped out of the office and returned with a tray of drinks. He grabbed his own signature coffee, two mugs for himself and Jack, leaving the two teas for the Doctor and Rose. Ianto liked the duo well enough, but he couldn't help but wonder why they never drank his coffee. Jack pecked his cheek as he handed over the coffee, and took a long drink.

Rose shuddered, finally warming up, many thanks to the tea Ianto had brought. The Doctor was happily chatting to the other couple, telling of the more interesting places they'd visited since last time, though Rose's shaking did not escape his notice. He frowned briefly, before taking the coat off and tucking it around Rose. She curled up against the Doctor, content to lay there and finish her tea while listening to the sound of her friends' voices.

When he had finally noticed that Rose had fallen asleep, the Doctor stood.

"Leaving so soon?" Jack asked, surprised.

"Long day," the Doctor nodded at Rose. He scooped her up, coat and all, and exited the Hub. When he finally got to her bedroom back on the TARDIS, the Doctor hesitated briefly before tucking the sheets around her, still wrapped up in his coat.

"Good night, Rose," he murmured, kissing her forehead before heading off to his favourite chair in the library.


	20. A Bit of Colour

_Something old,_

_Something new,_

_Something borrowed,_

_Something blue_

She really had perfect timing. It was two weeks until he was going to marry his Rose and the TARDIS was fully mature. The young TARDIS could only handle a basic matrix and was currently showing the old, simplistic desktop; the Doctor felt as if he had stepped eight hundred years backwards in his life.

"Hello Sexy," he breathed, slowly walking around her. One trip without Rose, to test her, he told himself. Besides, there were a few things he needed to do to the TARDIS. Rose wouldn't miss him, not tonight.

Rose laughed, ascending the short staircase. "Doctor, we're at the table," She felt him lift the blindfold off her head.

"I may have added an extra decoration," he replied lightly.

"That's…how… Doctor that's the TARDIS!" She gasped, hesitantly reaching out a hand to caress the wooden exterior.

"Broken chameleon circuit and all," the Doctor beamed. "Your better go get dressed and whatever else women do the morning of their wedding," he squeezed her hand. "She'll be waiting, after the party."

Rose pushed the Doctor against the door. "It's perfect," she breathed, before lightly pressing her lips to his. The Doctor sank into the kiss, closing his eyes and dreaming of all the places he would take her when a watch beeped. Rose broke it off, tilting her head and playfully smirking said; "Bad luck to see the bride before the aisle." The doctor mashed his lips to her, briefly, before heading back to their separate rooms, lingering at the corner before turning.


	21. The Endless and Faraway Sky

She didn't let go of him, not once the entire trip back to the Tyler Estate from Dalikstraang. The Doctor knew it shouldn't have surprised him, but it did. Rose had spent five years in this parallel world, alone. And there had been no one else. He fingered the box in his pocket, remembering when he had first put it there, just before he lost her. How he had slipped it onto Donna's finger, telling her it created a bio-dampener. How he had travelled to a forty-second century mining colony to find the perfect diamond and back to the fourteenth to have it forged. How he had had everything perfectly planned for her.

His gaze wandered from Rose up to the window, to the stars. Stars that were now out of his reach. So many planets he hadn't visited. So many more he wanted to show her.

Rose nuzzled into his shirt and he dropped his gaze back to her. How he had missed her, his pink n yellow human.

"Guess you're stuck with me on this small, lunar planet," Rose said softly.

The Doctor smiled. "Stuck with you, that's not so bad," he replied, echoing her own statement. He didn't mention the baby TARDIS.

Rose grinned at the memory. "I hear they have nice dungeons in Cardiff," she poked her tongue out.

"Been there, done that," he whispered huskily. Giving up the stars for this impossible, beautiful human would be far from easy, but he would do anything for her.

Neither Rose nor the Doctor were aware that they had crawled into each others' lap – they were melting in a deep, emotional kiss. However, Jackie refrained from commenting for almost the entire drive from Norway.

"You're going to need papers. You're not going to get away with flashing blank ID at anyone here."

"Mmm…What?" He turned to face Jackie.

"Papers. Social Security, driver's licence, you know." She clarified loudly.

"Blank pa… how does she know about the psychic paper?" The Doctor turned to Rose, curious.

"I might've tol her about some of our adventures," Rose mumbled, her face still buried in his tee shirt.

"Oh! Which ones? Did you talk about the gas mask zombies? The Gelth and Dickens? Slitheen in Downing Street?" The Doctor perked up. "I've got nine hundred years' worth of stories. Where do you want to start. And don't say the beginning. Where? Meeting Rose? Post-missed year?"

"The beginning. You never did say where you were from."

And so, with a resigned sigh and both arms wrapped securely around his Rose, the Doctor began the tale of a foolish young Time Lord who ran away with his granddaughter in a stolen time machine.


	22. Walking on Air

"Well?" The Doctor couldn't help grinning at the sight of Rose's expression.

"It's… surreal," Rose marvelled. The planet had just enough gravity to retain its breathable atmosphere, but unless one was holding onto the ground, one would simply float higher into the sky (hence the reason both she and the Doctor were tethered to the TARDIS, as well has having a length of rope linking their feet. She spun around, twirling in the air like a ballerina, and crashed into the Doctor. "Sorry," she giggled slightly.

"S'okay," he relaxed as she disentangled herself. She was exquisite, he thought, feeling his face redden slightly. Where had that come from? She was just an ape, a stupid ape as he himself had told her, not so long ago. And yet she made him feel something other than the guilt that the War had imprinted on him. She stirred up emotions that he thought had disappeared forever with the destruction of his planet. "Just make sure you don't float off out the atmosphere. I don't know that I could get the ARDIS up there before you suffocated."

"Like this," she pursed her lips 'innocently', letting herself drift upwards.

"Rose!" His previous train of thought was eradicated as he reached for the drifting human, genuine fear evident in his cracked voice. The Doctor grabbed her hand, pulling Rose back down. "I promised your mother you'd be safe," he masked his own concern, hiding behind the promise that Jackie Tyler had extracted from him. I don't want to lose you, he tried to tell her, the words stuck in his throat. The Doctor leaned towards Rose, intending to tell her just that. His nose brushed against her ear and he was hit with the powerful scent of Rose Tyler. She smelled… amazing. Steeling himself, the Doctor's face drifted down and his lips lightly trailed across her cheek until they met hers, hovering over. He attempted those six words again, but his mouth wouldn't form the words.

Rose pressed her lips firmly against his. They collided haphazardly.

Their legs became tangled and he squeezed her hand, interlocking their fingers together. One day, he'd tell her, he resolved. One day, Rose Tyler would know everything about the Doctor.

c22c30ae47


	23. Just Like This

A/N: Something (hopefully) short and sweet to get back into the writing groove! It's also a little continuation of the last shot.

It was time. The officiant was looking at the Doctor expectantly when the sheer domesticity of what he was about to do hit him like a freak tidal wave. Rose clutched his hand reassuringly and gave it a gentle squeeze.

For the third time in his long life, the Doctor was getting married. But this time, he felt as if he was floating. His face split into a wide grin as he spoke the two simple words that bound him to Rose Marion Tyler for the rest of his short human life.

The Doctor and Rose Tyler. With the TARDIS. Like they should be.


	24. Photograph

A/N: OMG I AM SO SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING! I had two chapters written over the holidays and never posted. And then school started and I completely forgot. So without further ado…

"Where in all of time and space did you get this?" The Doctor picked the framed photo up off the nightstand, staring at it in awe.

"Had a miniature in my pocket," Rose grinned, remembering how Jackie Tyler had found the tiny picture and had had a five by seven copy made. That copy had been a permanent fixture beside her bed, that reminded her why she jumped dimensions. That she hadn't imagined it – that she hadn't imagined _him_.

"Rose Tyler. All those pictures you took and this is the one you carry round?" He stared at the photograph, wincing slightly at the sight of his enormous ears.

"Doctor, don't you remember? That was the first time we got married!" Rose pecked his cheek, laughing as she replaced the photo onto the nightstand. The Doctor pulled her closer.

"Course I remember," he replied, lightly touching his mouth to hers.

"What do you mean the two of you are married?" An incredulous voice came from the hall. The doorknob twisted and Jackie Tyler strode into the room. "Thought he said no domestics," she began as the startled pair broke apart.


	25. Chains

A/N: So this is set immediately after 'Dalek' and before 'The Long Game'.

"Don't lie to me, Doctor. What did that…that wretched _man_ do to you?" Rose felt her voice ascend higher as she forced the word 'man' past her lips, if Henry van Statten could be called a man. Something terrible must have happened to the Doctor in that 'collection' of alien 'artefacts'.

"Rose. Jus' leave it," the Doctor gave Rose's hand a quick squeeze before slowly turning back to the console and spinning the time rotor. "Where to next?" He winced as he reached for a lever.

"Doctor, you can tell me," Rose pressed. _I need you to tell me._

"You want to know? I was an alien in a madman's collection of alien artefacts," the Doctor said shortly.

A Dalek chained to the floor, screaming with pain flashed through Rose's memory. She drew a sharp, deep breath and clenched her fists. "Take us back," she said tersely.

"You want to go back? I thought we were leaving. Permanently." A voice whined from the jump seat.

Adam. Both Rose and the Doctor had temporarily forgotten about him.

"You," the Doctor said pointedly, "can shut it. Rose," he turned his back on the boy. But Rose did not give the Doctor a chance to finish his sentence. She closed the gap between the two of them and tilted her head so that she was looking him directly in the eye.

"I thought I was going to lose you because of him," she said quietly, Cockney accent thickened.

A wave of emotions hit the Doctor as she said that. "Same thought might've crossed my mind," he admitted, sounding gruff trying to mask the pain that thought had caused with his Northern accent, before bending down and gently kissing her.

She responded with passion, backing the Doctor up against the wall. His hands trailed up and entangled into her hair while Rose's arms were wrapped tightly around his waist.

Adam tried clearly his throat several times, but Rose and the Doctor were lost in their own private bubble.


	26. Vaseline

A/N: New chapter! As always, please, _please_ leave a review or message me!

"Do you have any Vaseline?" Rose padded into the console room, a robe tied hastily over her pajamas.

"How should I know?" The Doctor stopped tinkering with the console and turned to face his companion. "What do you want with that stuff, anyway?"

"Lips are chapped," Rose turned back into the hall, opening doors to determine the probability of Vaseline being present.

"There might be some in the infirmary," the Doctor spoke up from behind her. Rose jumped. "Sorry. Just thought of it. Didn't mean to startle you." His eyes met Rose's and smiled kindly.

"No, it's fine. Thank you. Guess the wind was a bit much," she mentioned conversationally.

"Did you like it?" The Doctor's voice changed, his Northern accent thickening, speaking gruffly.

"It was beautiful! I've never seen anything like it before. Woman's Wept. Such a sad name for a beautiful planet." Rose reminisced, thinking about the glaciered sphere.

"It's one of my favourites," the Doctor admitted quietly.

"Have you even changed into dry clothes since we got back?" Rose inspected the Doctor, her brow furrowed in concern.

"I changed my jumper," he replied, half defensive, half joking. "And socks. Wet socks aren't any fun."

"I guess I ought to check the infirmary for that Vaseline cuz neither are chapped lips," Rose remembered.

"Might not be Vaseline," the Doctor looked up from the console again. "I mean, it'd be the same stuff, just not from Earth. Hence the different name."

"Thanks," Rose grinned impulsively, grabbing his hand as they entered the hallway (entirely unconscious of the action). The Doctor curled his fingers around hers (a simple, habitual occurrence that has saved a companion's life, more than once – or so he told himself) as he led her round the first corner.

Entering the infirmary, the Doctor immediately headed for the shelves lining the far wall. Scanning the contents, he handed Rose a small emerald bottle. "Fill the eyedropper and rub it into your lips."

Rose unscrewed the top and filled the dropper. "No, no! You don't need so much. Here," the Doctor emptied the dropper until it was less than a quarter full. "Now, don't go using your finger. Let the 'Vaseline' soak into the skin." The Doctor allowed another smile to crack his outer shell. "You liked it there today? In a few centuries, the entire planet becomes a tourist attraction famous in several star systems."

"Don't tell me it gets all built up. I couldn't stand hearing that that picturesque planet get reduced to a pile of alien trash and pollution and economies and everything. It's perfect." Rose shook her head.

"I had a fantastic time today, 'Dame Rose'." The Doctor had, of course, gotten involved in a (thankfully small) local dispute. However, part of that dispute had (well, it had been the only way to end it, really) to declare Rose Tyler as his wife. Sir Doctor and Dame Rose of Tyler Estate. His eyes had widened slightly at the psychic paper's declaration, but had had no choice but to go along with it.

"As did I, 'Sir Doctor'." Rose grinned at the memory. She leaned in to give him a quick hug. The Doctor automatically wrapped his arms around her and, surprising them both, kissed her forehead. "Feels like you could use some of this stuff," Rose teased him as his lips lightly scraped her skin.

She stood on her toes, trying to match his height. Rose pressed her greased lips to his dry ones. They slid unevenly over the rough, chafed skin, getting caught on a particularly damaged piece. She nuzzled her lips on that spot, moisturizing it. Rose's eyes widened and she quickly stepped away.

"Reckon there's enough left in the dropper," she muttered awkwardly, hand absently retying her robe.

"Yeah," the Doctor spun the time rotor. "I'll just drop us back into the vortex…"


	27. Warmth

"Are you all right, Doctor?" Rose asked the shaking half-Time Lord.

"Yeah, absolutely. Brilliant, in fact," he replied through his chattering teeth, though he was inwardly cursing his fragile human body.

"Kay…" Rose smiled knowingly, her tongue poking out as she tried to keep from laughing at the Doctor's predicament.

"Rose!" He whined.

"Yes, Doctor?" She kept her back turned and purposely kept her stride steady. "Lovely day for a walk, isn't it? Though I'm glad you warned me about the climate," Rose teased, pulling her scarf from around her flushed neck. The Doctor had finally caught up to her, removing his frozen hand from his pocket to hold Rose's gloved one. "Honestly, what would you do without me," she asked him, laughing as she wrapped her own scarf around the Doctor's neck. Rose froze as soon as the full meaning of what she had just said hit her, and drew a deep breath.

"Oh, Doctor," she whispered, resting her head on his shoulder, "I'm sorry."

He knew immediately that she was referring to his Time Lord self in the other universe.

"I'm sure he's fine. Travelling the universe. Finding new planets. Meeting new people. Same old life." He ran his thumb across her face, wiping away the spilling tear before it froze.

Her last conversation with the Time Lord ran through Rose's mind. _He needs you. That's very me._

"Rose. Rose, look at me." Her Doctor's voice brought her back to the present. He was holding both of her hands in his, pressed against their chests. Rose was very aware of the single heartbeats thrumming. "He's fine. The pain dulls over time until he's left with just the good memories. Until all of the memories are fond recollections. And he keeps meeting new people and making new memories."

"He's hiding ten lifetimes of pain under travelling? No wonder you never mention anyone from your past," Rose replied quietly as the Doctor unlocked the TARDIS.

He paused, arms falling to his side from the coat rack.

"You met Sarah Jane…" he said weakly.

"I spoke with her. You never told me anything." Rose smiled sadly. "Sarah Jane swapped stories with me." She reached into a cupboard, pulling out a towel and beginning to dry herself.

"Rose…" he waited as she turned back to face him. "I'll tell you everything. But not like this." He noticed that she was still shaking and led her to the pool.

He waded into the warm water, still in his pants and tee shirt, pulling Rose with him. "It's okay," he murmured, gently pressing his lips to her forehead.

Rose wrapped her legs around his waist and leaned on his shoulder. "Yeah?" She asked quietly.

"Yeah. Promise. Cross my hearts, Rose. Well, that is to say heart. I only have one of those, remember." The Doctor cut his babbling and floated onto his back, pulling Rose with him. He rested her lightly above his chest and gazed lovingly into her eyes, before dipping forward in the warm water, his face reaching out towards hers, his lips lightly brushing her cheek, her nose, down her throat.


	28. Daybreak

Rose awakened, slowly pulling herself from the pile of blankets heaped over her bed. Groaning, she rolled over and looked at the clock, which read 6:45. Rose was about to fall back asleep when she realized that this was her bedroom in her Mum's flat, not the TARDIS. Eyes flying open, she bolted upright and flew out the door, sighing in relief when she saw the space timeship standing in the living room beside the telly. Rose took the chain from around her neck and had just stuck the key into the lock when she saw something move in the kitchen. Jackie, Rose knew, would still be sleeping, and she had been sure that her mother had thrown Jim out of the house for good.

"Morning!" The Doctor said cheerfully, throwing a newspaper onto the table from where he was leaning against the counter.

"It's seven in the morning! What are you doing in the flat's kitchen?" Rose asked, sidling past him to the table. "What you doing the flat?"

"_I_ made flapjacks," he announced smugly, uncovering the plate.

Rose raised her eyebrow at that. "Sort of domestic, this," she snickered, reaching for a pancake anyway.

"Oi. No need to get insulting. I knew you wouldn't like it if I went off without you. Besides, you doesn't like pancakes?" The Doctor countered, folding his arms and leaning back again. "S'not like we don't have them all the time, anyway."

"Not in my mum's flat, we don't." Rose sighed happily as she bit into the pancake. "I see you've got out all the works," she ran her eyes over the table, looking at all of the toppings: bananas (of course), strawberries, whipped cream, maple syrup, and all the alien ones that had no Earthly counterpart.

"You're up early Rose," Jackie yawned, entering the small kitchen. "What are you doing in my kitchen?" Her eyes landed on the Doctor. "Do you ever sleep? Or do you just leave her and come back immediately? And what's all this?"

"Mum, the Doctor's made flapjacks." Rose tried diffusing the growing tension.

There was no stopping Jackie's distaste for the alien. "At seven in the morning?" She shook her head. "I'm going back to bed. But don't you even think about slipping off without a proper goodbye," she eyed the Doctor, who quietly muttered something along the lines of 'we'll see'.

"Well, I thought they were lovely." Rose leaned against the countertop next to the Doctor, who was staring down the hall after Jackie.

"I think she's warmed up to me." He grinned cheekily. "No slap."

"Watch it, or she'll come back," Rose bantered. "It might only be seven but there's no way I'm back to bed. What's on for today?" She teased, knowing full well that the Doctor never ended up where he wanted to go.

"Haven't used the Randomizer in a while. What?" He asked indignantly as Rose scoffed.

"Nothing," Rose kissed his cheek, still giggling. The Doctor's hearts fluttered as she yawned, pulling away from him and propping her arm on the counter. He desperately wanted to pull her close again, never mind the domesticity of it all.

The sun streamed into the little kitchen, casting a perfect silhouette onto the wall.


	29. Daydream

_You've got that James Dean, daydream, look in your eye;_

_And I got that red lip, classic thing that you like._

_And when we go crashing down, we come back every time,_

_Cuz we never go out of style (out of style)._

He'd catch himself staring at her. Running round the console, looking at her the entire time that he was piloting the ship. He'd never had a companion like her. Rose Tyler was unique and, even if she didn't quite believe it herself, special. And so, whenever anybody tried to take advantage of her in any way, the Doctor would take her hand in his own, all the while still conversing, still exploring, still investigating.

The worst (best) of it happened when they had landed in London (well, Cardiff) in 1860 (3, but who's keeping track?) – she had looked absolutely stunning and he'd flat out told her, his voice marvelling at her radiance.

Of course, he'd be the last to admit to daydreaming. About a human, no less. But she crept into his thoughts when he'd least expect it. He'd make a comment, compliment her, and backtrack, half-retracting his statement, half uttering pure nonsense. She made his head spin in the best way possible, she had, quite literally, rejuvenated him. No longer the One who broke the promise, he was once again the Doctor. He was on the way to healing. And Rose Tyler had started the process.

Rose jumped slightly as the Doctor suddenly pulled her into a hug. "Blimey, what's that for, then, Doctor?"

But the Doctor, not one to talk about his emotions, did not verbally answer her question. Letting it go, Rose rested her head on his shoulder, inhaling his scent and sighing happily. At the end of the day, this is where she was happiest. With the man she was growing to love (even if she wasn't ready to admit it to herself just yet).

He kissed her head softly, his nose and mouth buried in her loose hair. This was better than any dream.


	30. Eyes

This was inspired by a song by The Who called "Behind Blue Eyes". It's a beautiful rock ballad and I highly suggest you listen to it before reading.

Rose had never met anyone as contradictory as the Doctor. The man who had swept her off her feet the moment they'd met. The man who vehemently protested domesticity, yet cooked banana pancakes every week. His icy blue eyes that melted and softened when he looked at her. She had, on more than one occasion, gotten lost gazing into the Doctor's eyes; his eyes showcased his every emotion. Eyes so expressive, Rose sometimes imagined ocean waves floated across his emotions. Anger that broke the wave crest yet deep and still in his pensiveness.

Rose became vaguely aware of the Doctor pulling her up from the jump seat. He wrapped his arm around her waist and she leaned heavily against his side. The Doctor thought about saying something about humans and their (frankly ridiculous) sleep cycles, but Rose Tyler's half-closed soft hazel eyes distracted him. He carried her slowly down the corridor to her bedroom and pulled the bedspread back, supporting the sleeping blonde on his knee. The Doctor removed Rose's shoes and draped the blanket around her. Hesitantly, he stroked her hair back, drew a deep breath through his nose to steady himself and softly kissed her forehead.

Rose sighed in contentment when she felt the Doctor's lips brush her skin, a smile forming as she felt him relax beside her. She snuggled as close to his upright frame as she could, absently lacing her fingers through his.

There were sixty-two thousand seventy hundred ninety-four reasons why he shouldn't stay (Jackie Tyler accounting for roughly forty-two thousand six hundred and five). Rose's relaxed semi-conscious smile and her hand holding his, showed the Doctor the only reason that mattered.

Notes:

So this is intended to be the first time they share a bed onboard the TARDIS. Nine and Rose are my ultimate OTP, in case you hadn't noticed yet.

This was inspired by a song by The Who called "Behind Blue Eyes". It's a beautiful rock ballad and I highly suggest you listen to it before reading. There are, of course, some major differences one of which:

"My dreams, they aren't as empty/As my conscious seems to be" – Obviously the Doctor is filled with regret and sorrow and guilt from committing genocide and ending the Time War.


	31. Heat Wave

Hey everyone! Just a quick note to let you know that I have not abandoned this fic! I've been super busy over the past month, finishing my exams in April and looking for a job all May. While I've found some time to write, I've been too busy (and a bit procrastinate-ive) to post.

And so, without further ado, I present _Heat Wave_, _Just Waiting_, _Eyes_, and _Stolen Moments._

"Hurry up then. Sooner we get to the TARDIS, sooner we can leave this planet," the Doctor glanced, concerned, at his companion.

"Next time, we check the local weather patterns, yeah?" Rose replied, pulling her sleeves up past her elbows while privately wondering how the Doctor could stand wearing black leather in this heat.

"And take half the adventure out of this? No thanks, mate." His manic grin returned, albeit briefly.

"Yeah, well, maybe if someone was a better pilot the heat would be a bit more bearable," Rose muttered under her breath, pausing to wipe her perspiring brow. She blinked blearily. "How far to the TARDIS?"

"Not far now." The Doctor smiled cheerfully. "Tell you what. Straight to the pool to cool off, followed by banana milkshakes and Disney movies."

Rose laughed, though her exhaustion was becoming more noticeable. "That's a date," she replied cheekily, grabbing the Doctor's cool hand in her own slick one.

"Don't make it sound so domestic," he shuddered theatrically, when he felt her hand go limp.

"No, no, no." He muttered frantically, catching her as she crumbled towards the uncaring ground; the Doctor sprinted to the TARDIS, not allowing the heat to affect him, carrying Rose bridal style to the infirmary where, thanks to the ship's telepathy, smelling salts and two glasses of ice water were waiting.

"What happened?" Rose had regained consciousness, but was still dazed.

"In simplest terms, you overheated." The Doctor passed her one of the waters with instructions to sip at it slowly.

Later, she curled up next to him on the sofa, banana shakes in hand, as he read aloud from 'Great Expectations'.

"Thanks for looking out for me earlier," Rose mumbled sleepily.

"Anytime Rose," he answered lightly, putting the novel on the table. "Now to bed with you. No use wasting more time than necessary – you lot are liable to spend over half your lives sleeping as it is."

"Mm," was her only response, her head resting on his chest.

The Doctor gave an exaggerated sigh at the domesticity of the situation, before pulling Rose closer. Immediately, he noticed that she was shaking. The TARDIS, darling ship that she was, had already moved Rose's comforter to the library couch. The Doctor gently tucked the blanket around his fragile pink and yellow human.

"Good night Rose," he smiled softly, his eyes and heart full of love.

"Good night, my Doctor," Rose murmured, her lips ghosting over his before her head returned to his chest.


	32. Just Waiting

He'd known the day that they'd met that Rose Tyler was special. She had immediately proved herself to be a quick thinker, a compassionate person, and she had yet to fail him. And, day after day, the Doctor felt her stealing his hearts. By their third or fourth adventure together, he was besotted. He buried his emotions, wearing his corny grin and leather jacket as armour. He told himself that he wasn't scared of love, convinced himself that he was simply waiting for the perfect moment to tell her, all the while falling head over heels.

Every chance he had, the Doctor told Rose that she was fantastic. He realized that, by waiting (putting off) to say the words, that he had already told her his feelings. That he had, in fact, already shown her that he was in love; by constantly commending her, dancing with her during the Blitz, how he had forgiven her when she admitted her mistakes, and, of course, every single time they embraced.

His reverie was broken by the appearance of the blonde human in question. "Thanks for waiting." She kissed his cheek before turning to drape her jacket on the coral. "Where're we off to?" Rose smiled in anticipation, her tongue poking out.

The Doctor grinned maniacally. "Let's find out," he exclaimed, rushing about the console.

"You think you're so impressive," Rose shook her head, giggling.

"I am so impressive," the Doctor whined gruffly. "To the wardrobe with you, then."


	33. Stolen Moments

She could feel it in her bones. This, after so many failed attempts, was home. The Doctor had definitely been here recently, Rose thought, half-ecstatic at landing in the right universe, half-dismayed she had missed the Doctor. She desperately wished that she had her super mobile; however, Torchwood hadn't allowed anything non-regulation to be taken during a jump. As she walked the street, Rose spotted a newspaper rolling in the wind. Unfurling it, she immediately noted the year. 2015. Even by the other universe's standards, this was the future. She deliberated her plan briefly, and, folding the paper over her arm, Rose entered a nearby phone box. She couldn't help feeling nostalgic as she stepped through the door into the red public call box. Taking a deep breath, Rose picked up the receiver and dialled the operator.

"Um, hello?" She asked uncertainly.

"Operator," was the sole reply.

"Yes, hello, I'd like to make a collect call." Rose recited the telephone number she'd memorized. Had that really been only three years ago (by her standards, of course)? She held her breath, not daring of raising her hopes, even when the line began to ring.

"TARDIS. If you're looking for the Doctor, he's…otherwise engaged at the moment. If this is Mum or Dad, leave a message and I'll phone you before he drops me off to the prison," a strange woman's voice narrated the answering machine. Rose said hello, but hung up as her voice cracked, the tears spilling over. It was stupid to think that he wouldn't have changed the message. But it had been the time and space ship. The woman in the recording had said so. Rose leaned against the glass wall of the phone box and wiped her eyes, determination setting in once more.

"Yes, yes, who is this?" An impatient Scottish voice answered.

"Is, is the Doctor there?" Rose asked, her voice steadying as she drew a deep breath, her Cockney accent still pronounced with emotion.

"This is a Doctor," the voice replied reservedly.

"Right, yes, well, I'm looking for someone specific," Rose poked her tongue in an unconscious nervous, yet hopeful, smile.

On the TARDIS, the Doctor was a nervous wreck, Clara noticed. Whomever he was speaking with on the phone must be extremely important; the Doctor was taking large, awkward steps around the console as they conversed and his voice was unusually steady. He didn't seem to know what to do with his spare hand, running it through his silver hair, changing his mind and clenching his fingers around the railings. Finally, he (rather reluctantly) hung up the phone, concentrating solely upon piloting his ship.

"What's this, then? Double adventure Wednesday?" Clara joked, briefly drawing the Doctor's attention away from the ship. "Where are we going?" She asked more softly upon seeing her friend's face.

"London." He brushed Clara's questions off, being intentionally vague.

"Double trouble today, then? Swell." Clara smiled hopefully, but the Doctor wouldn't meet her eyes.

Rose dared not believe her ears. It couldn't be as simple as a single phone call. The key around her neck grew hot as the noise stopped and Rose was all but throwing herself at an old-fashioned police telephone box. She pressed her hand reverently against the faded panels before pulling open the door.

Clara had been about to confront the Doctor when the door opened. "Don't you need a key" she began.

Rose had been ready for him not to recognize her. To be a younger Doctor than her pinstriped Doctor. She'd been prepared for that. She hadn't expected him to sweep her off her feet the moment she entered the room. She hadn't anticipated responding to him by burying her face in his neck as he nestled his in her hair.

"Rose Marion Tyler," the Scottish voice murmured softly.

"My Doctor," she smiled, resting her hand against his chest and feeling his double heartsbeat.

For a tenth of a second, he considered it. As tempting as it was for her to stay, his past was fixed. This was bonus, this was extra. This was the Time Lord's stolen moment from his past, his chance to fix one last mistake. And so, while she was still here, the Doctor swallowed his fear and cowardice that still lingered after so many centuries, and told her, not only of his long dormant yet passionate feelings for her. He told her his name. Something that nobody who was alive knew. Rose only smiled and told him that 'Doctor' was the only name she'd ever needed.

He lingered after she left the TARDIS. Watched as she used the dimension hopper to return to Pete's World. Remembered the events that had transpired two lifetimes ago. And found that somehow, despite spending over a thousand years apart and only being with her for two years, this pink and yellow human still held the keys to his hearts.


	34. Vin Rouge

So this story is inspired by a photo manipulation. . except I thought that for this story Rose needed a different dress: style/32218/

The Tchaikovsky dance (Waltz of the Flowers): watch?v=QxHkLdQy5f0

The Paderewski nocturne: watch?v=WsolZt7KYH4

Without further ado, I present _Vin Rouge_.

"You look beautiful," the Doctor whispered softly as Rose entered the console room. She giggled softly, putting her hand to her face.

"I don't think that I'll ever get used to that closet," Rose laughed, shaking her head, her blonde curls swinging across her face. "So you think you can ballroom dance? You could barely move without stepping on my toes when we picked Jack up."

"I'll show you my moves," the Doctor replied huskily, offering Rose his arm, who hesitated briefly before taking it. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, it's nothing. Really." Rose smiled at the Doctor. "S just a bit strange, seeing you without your jacket, ta? Oh, you know what I mean," she smacked his arm lightly. "Never been with you and you didn't have the leather jacket with you." Changing the subject, Rose waved to Jack, who had clearly come just from the wardrobe, looking almost as dashing as the Doctor.

"_I'd_ like to see the Doc without his jacket," the ex-conman winked. "Or maybe wearing it with some matching leather pants."

The Doctor let Jack's innuendo (no doubt the first of many) slide, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. "Don't you go bringin' strays back with you," he told the Captain sternly.

"Yes, sir." Jack snapped off a mock salute. Privately, he hoped that tonight would be when his friends finally… _danced_.

"So, are aliens here or something?" Rose asked, confused as the Doctor pulled her towards the dance floor.

"Just three," he replied cheekily.

"Right. You, me, and Jack, yeah?" Rose scanned the crowd. "They look human enough."

"They look Time Lord enough too, on the outside." The Doctor countered, beginning an effortless gavotte in duple metre; Rose, however, was still questioning why they were at the dance hall if nothing unusual was about to occur. Sensing that Rose was still anxious, the Doctor pulled her closer. The music began anew, a waltz. The Doctor smiled, noting the appropriateness of the Tchaikovsky dance.

One-two-three. Dancing with Rose was effortless. Their rhythms were perfectly synchronized with not only each other (which, he thought privately, must be because of all the running they did together), but with the music as well. Together, they glided across the dance floor and Rose leaned against the wall, her smile blinding.

"Just want to catch my breath a moment. Dancing is far more exhausting than the constant running for our lives," she joked as the Doctor passed her a glass of red liquid. Rose sipped the wine, savouring the berry flavours, acutely aware of the Doctor's arm still around her waist.

The Doctor could see the timelines diverging. If he acted, he could choose which path time took; one path would open possibilities he had only dreamed of thus far. _If_ he acted, he could decide which direction his life went. The last Lord of Time saw his futures and pushed his time senses aside. For the first time since he regenerated, since he ended the War, the Doctor refused even the smallest glimpse of whatever consequences were coming.

He pulled Rose close again, defying any concept of personal space. Her arms automatically wrapped themselves around his waist and they were once more ready to dance.

The slow Polish nocturne was a perfect blend of melancholy and amour, the Doctor thought as Rose rested her head on his shoulder. As the music approached its end, the Doctor felt Rose's head lift from his shoulder, her warm brown eyes affectionately meeting his. Their foreheads touched briefly as the Doctor bent so that they were at eye level.

"Rose Tyler," he whispered gravelly. Blue eyes locked with brown; both pairs gazing lovingly into the other. Rose and the Doctor simultaneously moved closer. Her breath was hot and he revelled in her scent. Her bottom lip curled as she bit it and her smile was dazzling.

He traced her lips with his tongue, poking inside briefly. Rose gently bit down on his tongue, bringing their faces closer once more. She could feel his double heartbeat through his suit, and rested her hands on either side of his chest. Her eyes shone brightly, full of love.

Neither Rose nor the Doctor noticed Jack holographically recording them with his vortex manipulator. "These two are so sweet," Jack smiled fondly, watching a moment longer before disappearing back into the crowd.


	35. Clock

"What is that doing in here?" The Doctor made a face of disgust.

"It's a pear, Doctor," Rose said slowly, amused by the Doctor's shenanigans. She had forgotten how… eccentric he could be about little things.

"I know it's a pear, Rose. That's why I asked what it's doing in your kitchen."

"Pete has a tree in the yard." Rose didn't understand how five hours ago she'd said goodbye, _forever_, to the love of her life, and was now discussing _pears_, of all things, with the same man.

The Doctor's frown deepened and his eyebrows furrowed in thought.

"What's wrong?" Rose hesitantly reached out and touched his forearm.

"I… I don't know what time it is. I can't feel the Earth turning. My chest… it's so empty. That's me now, I suppose. Human. Well, part human. One heart," the Doctor said in disbelief, "it's like half of myself is gone." He pulled Rose closer and she rested his hand over her own single heart.

"Heard a story once. Don't remember where, think a friend told me she heard it at camp or something. People have two eyes, two lungs, two arms, legs, that sort of thing. They also used to have two hearts. An' I don't remember the next bit, but they were separated and had to find the soul carrying their other half."

"Are you suggesting that you're my 'other half'?" The Doctor's voice quavered slightly, though Rose detected it immediately.

"All I'm saying is that I think our room needs a clock." Rose said quietly, her hands moving to the Doctor's neck, pulling him down to her height.

"Rose Tyler." The Doctor's breath was cool on her lips.

"My Doctor," Rose sucked his upper lip and kissed him passionately, leaving no distance between them. And while neither of them had a clock, both were presentable at dinner table later that evening, albeit arriving slightly late.


	36. Haunted

Haunted

The memory of Rose Tyler haunted the Doctor. She would burst through his mental barriers at the most inopportune moments, nothing but a memory yet so much more powerful, regardless of whether he was in the library by himself or out adventuring with his companions. The first time, he had relived their entire time together. Flashes of Charles Dickens and Slitheen and nanogenes filled his immense mind – any space not occupied by Rose Tyler was quickly filled. The Doctor could not bear to lock away the memories, and so slumped to the floor, a broken man, each time this happened.

Martha had never found him like this, though she had seen him red-eyed and tired upon occasion when he entered the galley after an episode, desperately trying for a nonchalant expression as he rummaged around for a banana. But now, Martha too was gone. Though he had enjoyed their travels together, the Doctor had been horrified to realize that he was slightly glad that she had left. Martha, though a brilliant friend, had just entered his life too soon after losing Rose.

Donna, on the other hand, walked right into an episode the day after they had visited Pompeii. Donna sat with him as he cried in silence, her head resting comfortingly on his shoulder. The Doctor, being the rude and not ginger person that he was, never acknowledged Donna's support, preferring instead, to pretend that he never curled up into the tightest ball possible and cried his eyes out; he always came bouncing back to the console room, pressing buttons and spinning dials with a flourish, promising grand adventures.

Though he never admitted it, going back to New Earth had drained him. Never before had he not appreciated a second adventure on a planet, but his first visit to New Earth had been too recent. _Rose_ had been too recent.

When he regenerated a violent regeneration and destroyed the console, the TARDIS had repaired it herself to its former state of organic glory. Now a new man, the sight of the room still triggered painful memories of friends lost. Memories of a fiery redhead, a brilliant doctor, an immortal ex-conman, and… the Doctor, even while he was irrevocably changing, could not bear to remember the loss that had plagued him for the years past, the loss that he himself had ensured was now permanent.

As he regenerated, his mind clung to a memory now two lifetimes ago. Exchanging physical pain for mental, the Doctor re-lived the first time he had kissed Rose Tyler. The first time he had kissed her, he had sent her away.1 A brief kiss on her forehead about as far from intimate as possible. A kiss that could have led to something more, had he not regenerated, had he not lost her, had he not sent her away with the Metacrisis. He had seen the timelines and had he not been the coward he was, she would be with him still. Of course, it was more complex than that, but really, that's what it boiled down to. As the fiery pain left the Doctor's body, the mental pain failed to subside and the Eleventh Doctor realized that, no matter what happened, he would always love Rose and he would forever be haunted by her loving memory.

1 The Parting of the Ways, Minute 14:07


	37. Teaching

"It takes so much more than simple concentration to be able to do this. I don't even know if _I_ would be able to anymore, even." The Doctor was aware that he was babbling in his explanation, and most likely adding extraneous detail. He glanced down at Rose, who was nestled against his side on the sofa in Pete's rec room; Rose lifted her head, compassionate hazel eyes meeting ancient chocolate ones.

"I hope that's not your proposal," Rose whispered, her eyes dancing with humour. "All you ever needed to do was ask, like this: Doctor, will you be my bondmate?" Rose was completely serious, all traces of laughter vanished, replaced by an earnest yearning.

"Life's better with two," the Doctor recalled Rose's words, paraphrasing. "Rose, do you remember our first trip to Platfrom One? The psychic paper read 'The Doctor Plus One'." He slid to the floor, pulling out the ring that his other self had given him on the beach. "Will you be my bondmate, Rose Marion Tyler? My wife, my 'Plus One' as long as we both shall live?"

"Yes, of course. I love you," Rose whispered tenderly.

"I'm going to initiate the engagement bond. I should be Time Lord enough to do this," the Doctor touched Rose's temple and attempted to open his mind. Instantly, pink and golden threads were caressing his mind, threads filled with love and trust. He explored Rose's mind while his fingers became reacquainted with her body. (Reacquaintment became full snogging as the lovers became more mentally intimate.) He would, the Doctor realized, have to teach Rose to put up barriers in her mind. This thought was immediately protested. Rose threw her life's memories at the Doctor. Her first day at school, meeting Mickey, the entire mess that was her two years with Jimmy Stone, working at Henrick's, and finally, the shop exploding.

'Lived everything else with you,' Rose mentally shrugged. 'Don't need any barriers now.' Rose could still feel his uncertainty and she kissed him tenderly, reassuring (after a few failed attempts) touching his mind.


	38. Virtual Reality

Some quick author's notes:

I found the idea for this prompt at post/125790221057/prompt#notes

Rose awoke suddenly, straining against the restraints that bound her hands and feet. "Doctor?" She called, hoping that whomever had captured them hadn't separated the pair. Immediately, a nurse was at her bedside. "You're awake! This is great, do you know where you are? Do you know _who_ you are?" He asked her calmly; his professionalism and relaxing demeanour doing nothing to soothe Rose's agitation.

"Course I do!" Rose's shock at his question was obvious. "Where's the Doctor?" She asked urgently.

"He'll be in shortly. 'Tyler' is near the end of the alphabet, so you're at the end of his list." The nurse said soothingly.

His list? Were they undercover? Rose was faintly aware that the nurse had disappeared. She ripped an IV from her arm and tried to sit up; she thought that she could hear her mum's voice from the corridor.

"Hello Rose," Jackie's voice was overly-cheerful. "How's my beautiful girl today? I've brought a friend – do you remember Mickey?" Rose could only gape at her mother in bewilderment; the light dissipated from Jackie's eyes and she smiled sadly. "Oh, sweetheart." Mickey wrapped an arm around Jackie's shoulder as a tear slipped down her face. "She can't even recognize me," she sobbed.

"Another bad day?" Rose fought the restraints, her eyes wildly searching for the owner of that Northern accent.

"Doctor!" His name burst from her lips. He smiled, scribbling notes on his clipboard. If they were undercover, why was he observing her, Rose wondered.

"I don't think it's a good day, Mrs. Tyler," the Doctor was (apparently) finished observing her. Jackie began to cry again and Mickey escorted her out.

"Thanks for all you've done, Doctor Foreman," Mickey's voice was laced with gratitude. Since when did they get on so well? Rose thought, her disconcertment growing stronger.

"Doctor?" She queried, her eyes still watching where her mum had left.

"Do you know who you are?" The Doctor repeated the nurse's question, slowly.

"What kind of a question do you call that? Why am I strapped down in a mental institution? Other than _maybe_ we're undercover, how come Mickey and my Mum are here?" Rose stared at the Doctor. "What happened? We were dancing with Jack, then we went to bed and I woke up here!"

The Doctor simply handed her a pill. "If you don't take it now, it'll be ground into your next meal," he said briskly. The Doctor suddenly crackled, like the static from a television, and he flickered. He left the room, his white coat pixelated.

Though Rose still didn't know where she was, she began to suspect that it was not a mental institution. She hid the pill under the bedsheet and studied the room. It didn't feel right. She experimentally tapped the wall, looking for the same effect that had been on this 'Doctor's' coat. Rose could feel her arm move, could feel the wall beneath her fingertips, but her arm was still firmly encased in the metal band. She explored the wall, her arm moving yet still restricted.

"Rosie!" A voice shouted. Jack. "Rose, where are you?"

"Jack! I'M IN HERE! Jack!" Rose called frantically. The ex-conman was at her side in moments. "How is it that I'm locked in a mental institution when we were just on the TARDIS? There wasn't even a teleport! Parts of- of space are pixelated, like they're not even there, and my mum was here and the Doctor. The Doctor is a psychiatric doctor?"

"None of it's real. Rose, you can get up and just walk away. It's all in your mind. The people who actually run this place trap people in their own minds." Jack took Rose's hand. "There is nothing stopping you from leaving." Rose trusted Jack, and so, ignoring the sensation of not moving, ignoring the sensation of metal bands pressing against her body, Rose got to her feet and took a deep breath to re-orient herself.

The ex-Time Agent touched his vortex manipulator. "I've sent a message to the Doctor, the real Doctor. He's going to meet us at the TARDIS." Jack swore softly as his friend fell towards the ground, unconscious. Whatever virtual reality that machine had sent her to had obviously taken a toll on the young blonde.

"Doctor!" Rose cried, disoriented yet again. Instantly, a leather-clad arm was steadying her and a soft Northern accent explaining what had happened. Rose didn't pay attention, too glad to be home with her best mates. She buried her face against the Doctor's jumper and smiled as a tear slipped down her cheek. The Doctor hesitantly wiped it away with his thumb, softly kissing its watery trail and pulled Rose closer, their temples touching.


	39. Sake

"Human." Rose was forced to the left as the alien scanned her, then scanned the Doctor. "Not human," it proclaimed.

"Doctor!" Rose cried, as the aliens forced them apart. A wild idea came into her head and, breaking through a barrier, Rose ran towards the Doctor, enveloping him in a bear hug and smothering him with kisses. The alien moved to separate the duo once more and Rose could only hope that her DNA covered enough of the Doctor's skin so that he registered as human. She laced her fingers though his, desperately feigning nonchalance as the alien consulted its' readings. The alien faced Rose.

"You are human," it read from its' device. It made faces and smacked the device before scanning the Doctor once more. The alien frowned at the scanner before reluctantly pronouncing the Doctor "human. Damage to chest area." The alien escorted the pair back to the pen where they secured the humans and locked the gate. Rose looked at the Doctor.

"So what's going on? How come they're separating aliens from humans? I thought that humans got on with all sorts of people." She whispered urgently.

Two hours later, the Doctor had answered some of Rose's questions. "Now, I think it's my turn to ask one." Rose's stomach flopped.

"Listen, I only did it because then you'd have some of my, my DNA on your skin and then maybe you'd register as human and not alien on their scanner things." She smiled hopefully.

"And what if it had been scanning internal organs? What then, Rose? Do you have any idea what they'd have done to you if they realized you were engaging with an alien?" The Doctor looked around the room and Rose knew that he was working on a plan. A plan to help the prisoners escape.

"I tried, Doctor. I _tried_. Even if they did whatever they'd've done, I tried. I would have at least tried not to let them separate us. I assume that separation'd be comparable to rule one?" Rose protested. Rule number one, don't wander off.

"Keep a look out for any guards," the Doctor turned to face the wall, removing the sonic screwdriver from his pocket, a faint smile stretching across his face. She'd kissed him for sake of their situation, yes, but there was more to it than that. He could feel it. He, he loved Rose Tyler (there, was that so hard, he thought to himself) and perhaps, just perhaps, however impossible, she felt something for him too.


	40. Nightmare

Tag otpprompts otpprompts writing

Imagine Person A has a nightmare about an event that at that point will happen to A, B, or them as a couple in canon. Person B comforts them, telling them things like "Something like this will never happen". Bonus: Flash forward to the event taking place.

The Doctor awoke suddenly, rolling over to sit up. He pushed the coverlet aside and ran a hand through his hair, breathing deeply; nightmares always took a deep toll on the Time Lord. Normally, his sleep was dreamless, or else filled with images from the Last Great Time War. This time, however, was different.

Rose was gone. Nothing but a projection on a beach. He cried her name, running towards her, wishing desperately to take her into his arms. He reached out to touch her, but his hand passed straight through hers. Her large brown eyes were filled with tears and the Doctor, the ever so strong mighty Time Lord, was an emotional wreck. In his dream, he was wretched and alone and so desperately in love with Rose Tyler but she was gone.

The Doctor realized that he was in the kitchen, the kitchen that was his but also Rose's. The changes to his utilitarian space had slowly taken over, the addition of yellow curtains over the sink and matching towels. A fruit basket, filled with bananas and oranges and several alien fruits untranslatable to English. He sank into his chair, lost in his own thoughts. The next thing he knew, Rose was shaking him.

"Doctor! Doctor, please wake up." She was pleading.

"M okay," he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. Rose had asked him a question, the Doctor realized belatedly, as he looked at her.

"No, you're not," Rose said firmly. "You were talking in your sleep."

"I'm fine, Rose." The Doctor pushed the nightmare to the back of his mind. "What should we have for breakfast?"

Rose placed two bowls of banana yoghurt and granola on the table. "Don't think I'm gonna let this go, Doctor. I know you."

The Doctor realized that there was no way that he was going to get away without telling Rose about his dream. And so, in as succinct a way as possible, he conveyed the basic outline of the nightmare.

Rose scooted her stool closer to the Doctor's and hugged him. "I'm not ever gonna leave you. I promise." Her eyes were filled with every emotion from love and tenderness to fright to melancholy. Though the Doctor didn't doubt her sincerity, he knew from experience that in the end, his loved ones always left him.

The Doctor stood on the beach at Darlig Ulv Stranden. Five and a half hours had passed and he knew that there was no way to cross into the other universe. As he had told Rose, when his people stood tall crossing dimensions had been easy. He had never imagined that he would lose her in this way. Rose growing old and dying, yes; Rose deciding she that she couldn't travel with him anymore, yes; but never anything remotely close to this.

The Doctor entered the TARDIS, ready to fall apart. His emotions ruled his mind and, reflecting back, had Donna not suddenly appeared, well, the Doctor didn't want to dwell on that possibility.


	41. Drunk Kisses

"I'll have you know, Jack Harkness, that no hypervodka is enough to intoxicate a Time Lord," the Doctor slurred, hiccoughing as he poured another shot.

Jack laughed, attempting to walk around the table to sit next to his friend but tripping over it and faceplanting instead. "Try this one," he poured the Doctor another shot, dribbling alcohol onto the floor. "Oops," he giggled.

Rose stood in the doorway of an unfamiliar room, trying to scowl at her (very) drunk friends. "Hello Jack," she said crossly, as he swept her into a hug, kissing her cheek. Her eyes bored holes into the Doctor's, who brusquely shrugged into his leather jacket.

"Jack. Is drunk," he articulated, some part of his oversize brain knowing better than to admit his own inebriation.

"Clearly," Rose replied, disengaging herself from Jack, who had started to dance with her. Jack continued to dance with himself.

"Where shall we go, Rose Tyler? Shall we go to the twin planet of Raxacoricofallapatorius? Fancy a visit to Clom?" The Doctor attempted to walk through the door, which had disappeared. The TARDIS had, presumably, not wanted the two drunkards wandering her halls and taken precautions; however, the lack of door made it impossible for Rose to leave.

"Rose Tyler." The Doctor smiled, and it was a genuine smile, albeit melancholy.

"Doctor." Rose, while not mad (what right did she have to be mad anyway), was definitely not happy, the Doctor realized.

Before his buzzed brain could stop his nerve, the Doctor kissed Rose Tyler. He felt her begin to melt into the kiss, then she stiffened, quite unexpectedly. The Doctor's expression, his wits about him immediately, sobered.

"That was quite out of line," he said in a tight voice. "This'll be the last time Jack persuades me to drink with him. I'm, I'm sorry, Rose." The Doctor added.

Rose was aghast and knew her facial expression showed it. Finally, she managed to wrap her mouth around the words echoing in her brain.

"If I'd have known that you were gonna kiss me, I'd have asked Jack to get you drunk a long time ago." Rose lilted, her voice sounding perfectly melodious to the Doctor.

"That mean I get to do it again?" The Doctor asked innocently.

"Not until you're sober," Rose enunciated, smiling in her anticipation and left the Doctor, now glaring at Jack, who had decided to foxtrot with his imaginary partner.


	42. Nuit Blanche

Prompt: Person B has been having nightmares so person B borrows person A's shirts, which has been helping them sleep.

A/N: I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

Time Lords didn't need much sleep. The Doctor's normal amount of sleep was usually only four hours, twenty-two minutes, eighteen seconds, though he usually went for much greater periods of time without. The first night he spent with Rose Tyler, he was trapped on an alien planet and she snuggled closer to him. It had been cold and humans needed a much warmer body temperature than what the planet's climate allowed. He'd watched her as she fell asleep, cuddling to conserve precious body heat. He awoke much earlier than she, gently rolling over as to not be the little spoon anymore, twisting their fingers together when she reached out in her sleep.

She'd smiled softly as she awoke, gently stroking the Doctor's hand with her thumb. Always found a way to hold hands, even when he was facing away from her. The mattress had creaked as the Doctor rolled over, his blue eyes soft and with discharge in the corners. She'd teased him about his 'superior biology' that allowed 'eye gunk' to form whilst sleeping and they'd playfully bantered.

Now, the TARDIS had locked him in his bedroom; worried about her Thief who refused to take the time to care for himself. He hadn't been in his bedroom since their last night. Closing his eyes, he summoned the courage to look objectively at his room.

The bed was unmade, sheets rumpled. His glasses, a fashion accessory more than anything else, were sitting atop Charles Dickens' _The Signal-Man_, the arm marking their place in the novel. Her nightdress, lazily hanging from the bedpost on the right side. Her nightdress. The pink dress from their trip to the Coronation, visibly hanging from the closet. A blue and purple tee shirt balled in the corner. Never to be worn again.

Slipping. Whatever tenacious grip he had on reality was almost gone. His bedroom? _Their_ bedroom. Literally. (The ship, sweet dear, had merged the two rooms together). He staggered to the bed, clutching the nightdress, breathing in the _sillage_ that lingered still. He allowed sleep to claim him, if only temporarily to be reunited with his Rose. To hold her, to kiss her, if only in his dreams.


	43. Between the Sheets

Imagine your OTP sleeping in bed together. Person A accidentally falls off the bed and bumps their head on their nightstand. Luckily, they didn't get a concussion or anything— just a little bump. Person B hears the noise and gets up to pick up Person A and put them back in bed. They ask Person A if they're okay and Person A just squeezes their hands. Once Person A's head starts feeling a bit better, they fall asleep curled near each other, far from the edges of the bed.

post/132536382437/imagine-your-otp-sleeping-in-bed-together-person

Rose curled up on the edge of the bed. Her head was so confused and she just wanted to sleep. All that time spent trying to get back to him and he just took her back to that accursed beach with a human!Doctor. The same man, he'd assured her. Rose looked over at the man loudly snoring opposite her and rolled over, knocking her head against the rigid hotel lamp and slipping onto the floor. "OW!" She exclaimed, forgetting that it was, in fact, the middle of the night and people were sleeping.

_He_ was up immediately. "Rose?" His voice was filled with astonishment. "Just a dream," he said dejectedly; Rose could hear him roll onto his back (the Doctor always fallen asleep on his back, she remembered). She sat up against the side of the bed, not making any noise. "Of course was just a sodding dream. Slept for…" And here, he fell silent. "Three hours?" He finished, sounding confused, phrasing it like a question. "It's…four o'clock?" Rose realized that he must not know what time it was. "You're on the floor," he remarked, and before she knew what was happening, he'd scooped her up into his arms and was tucking her back under the covers. "Are you alright?" He asked, only just realizing that he hadn't yet checked whether or not she, gingerly examining her head. Rose winced, automatically reaching for his free hand as the pain blasted through her head. "I'm so sorry," he apologized immediately, tenderly stroking her face as the tears began to flow once more.

Rose looked at the hand she was squeezing, then at his face. "Doctor," she whispered. At his grateful nod, she immediately cuddled closer; the Doctor lifted his arm so that it was resting atop the covers covering her shoulder. Rose rested her head on his chest, listening to the pitiful single heartbeat. "My Doctor," she breathed, as sleep claimed her once more.

"Rose," he mumbled, breathing in the scent of her hair, re-memorizing every detail that he possibly could before he, too, fell asleep.


	44. Good Night Kisses

"Person A and Person B stay up late, and Person A decide to fake sleep, thinking it'll be interesting. Person B believes they're asleep, and confesses their love for Person A. How Person A reacts is up to you." post/136860147258/person-a-and-person-b-stay-up-late-and-person-a I kind of switched the prompt around.

Staying up 'late', like most senses of time on the TARDIS, was a human expression that the Doctor found himself using more and more each time he picked up a new companion. Time spent in any room was a timeless experience, as the TARDIS, while in the vortex, existed outside of normal space-time. 'Tonight', he was reclined in a couch in the media room with his current companion. The Doctor was explicitly aware of his avoidance to use her name when referring to her in his head; never before had he not mentally named the companion he was thinking about. Like most sessions in the media room, she had picked out the movie; he was surprised by her various selections – together, they had watched the earliest science fiction Earth movies, fifty-first century romcoms from a dozen different colony planets, a surprisingly touching adventure play-turned-movie from Clom, among others.

The Doctor was explicitly aware of when Rose fell asleep and paused the movie. Running a hand over his head, he deliberated carrying her to room or simply draping a blanket over her to sleep here. Ultimately, he decided that she would probably be most comfortable in her room. He turned the television off and gathered Rose and her various blankets in his arms. The TARDIS had moved her bedroom across the hall and dimmed the lights, as to not wake the human, and the Doctor mentally thanked his ship. The TARDIS gently berated him for not… well, he supposed she wanted him to act on the feelings that he shoved down and hid beneath his core on a daily basis, the feelings for a certain blonde human that were growing exponentially each time he was with her.

"What? Do you want me to just stroll up to her one day? Say, hey Rose, this is Planet X and by the way, even though I'm nine hundred years older than you and you're a different species than I am, I've fallen in love with you? Might as well invite Jackie to tea while I'm at it, get slapped into oblivion. Least then…" The Doctor cut himself off, not wishing to dwell on what he couldn't admit to himself, not noticing that Rose had begun to stir until they had reached her bedroom.

"Doctor?" She murmured, raising her head off his shoulder.

The Doctor's expressions froze, though his gait did not change. "Rose," he replied cautiously.

She mumbled something, snuggling closer against his maroon jumper. The Doctor looked at the pink and yellow human in his arms and smiled as she slowly, sleepily covered his neck in kisses. He turned his head and slowly, cautiously, pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. Rose smiled as fatigue overtook her once more and her arm dropped limply from around the Doctor's neck. He took her to her bedroom and tucked her in underneath the white duvet, staying when her fingers refused to let go of his hand.


	45. Good Night Kisses Part 2

Prompt taken from: post/106083456693/aus-and-prompts-list

Imagine person A of your OTP is reading a book late at night and person B can't sleep so they ask person A to read to them so person A starts reading out loud and a few minutes later person B is completely knocked out and person A gives them a kiss on their forehead.

Rose loved nothing as much as she loved listening to the Doctor read aloud. In her time aboard the TARDIS, she had heard all seven Harry Potter novels, the collected works of Agatha Christie, several Shakespearian plays, two Tolstoy novels, multiple poems by Lord Byron; this was only what Rose remembered him read.

'Tonight' was no exception. Rose found that her preconception of "Frankenstein" was about as far off the mark as was possible. And so, she focussed on the sound of the Doctor's voice until she was lulled to sleep.

The Doctor always noticed the exact second that Rose would fall asleep and would soften his voice until he essentially faded out. It was clear to him that Rose enjoyed their readings and he told himself that that was why he continued to read aloud to her.

Every night, he carefully marked their place in the novel (the Doctor never remembered which story he read to her, always being completely distracted by her mere presence) and placed it on her nightstand.

And every night, the Doctor did what he was otherwise too much of a coward to; he kissed her forehead, softly stroked back her hair and pulled the covers back over her still form, and smiled.


	46. Cookies

Person A is baking cookies and has to split their attention between watching the timer and fighting off Person B, who keeps trying to steal cookie dough from the bowl. Via .com

All in all, perhaps promising to bake the cookies for Tony's fundraiser hadn't been the best idea, thought Rose, tiredly flipping the last dozen off the sheet onto the cooling wire. Behind her, the Doctor was rinsing the dishes and putting the ingredients away; it was his own fault that he was stuck in the kitchen, Rose had told him to go off and tinker in the workshop, but oh no, he had to offer to help. However, she had to admit, doing anything with her new new Doctor was an experience to cherish and remember.

_Three hours previously._

"Rose…" The Doctor had walked into the kitchenette, and immediately spied a bowl of cookie dough. Hurriedly checking that Rose was not in sight, the Doctor had stuck a finger into the dough and scooped a dollop with his finger.

"Doctor!" Rose had entered the kitchen with a jar of Crisco, to find him having half-eaten her dough. He had looked up, startled, his eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights and slowly pulled his finger out of his mouth, swallowing.

"Out." She said firmly. "I promised Mum I'd finish these for her." 'Now I'll need to start from scratch,' she addded silently.

The Doctor looked from the bowl to his wife and back to the bowl. "I'm sorry, Rose. Let me do it, I ruined the first batch; no need for you to waste your time re-doing…" he trailed off as Rose glared murderously at him; though the last time had been his Time Lord self and a regeneration previous, the Doctor still remembered what it felt like to be on the receiving end of a Tyler slap and had no desire to repeat the experience.

As the mixer blended the ingredients together under Rose's watchful eye, the Doctor greased a new cookie sheet. He placed it on the counter next to Rose as she turned the mixer off and gave her his spoon to plop the dough onto the sheet, pulling an exaggerated pout when she laughed at him and grabbed a clean spoon from the drawer. The Doctor saw the opportunity and stuck the handle of the spoon in the batter, his expression falling as the cookie batter slipped off. He grabbed a rubber spatula as Rose raised an eyebrow, continuing to giggle at him, suddenly flinging a blob of dough onto her forehead.

"Doctor," she laughed, flinging the raw cookie back at him. "Oh, that's the timer," she grabbed the oven mitts and pulled the first dozen cookies out. Rose turned with the hot pan to see the Doctor very quickly close his mouth. Her eyes narrowed. "Doctor,"

He shrugged, his larynx bobbing as he tried to swallow discretely.

"There's still cookie on your face," she laughed, her own face lighting up beautifully, though she turned much too soon to put the hot pan on the stove. The Doctor snuck behind her and waited until she had stepped away from the stove to bury his face in her hair and snake an arm around her waist.

"Rose Tyler," he mumbled happily.

"My Doctor," she kissed his throat lasciviously and he sighed, pleased, his hand moving up her back to unclasp her bra. Rose pulled the Doctor's tee shirt over his head and he growled her name impatiently, his hand immediately going back to remove her clothing.

_Now_

And so, the Doctor was now 'stuck' baking cookies for a bake sale. How terribly domestic, he thought ironically, knowing that he would not trade being in this kitchen with Rose Tyler for anything in the world.


	47. Stolen Moments Part 2

A/N: I've had dimension-hopping Rose meet the First (Street Scene) and Twelfth Doctors (Stolen Moments). So here's the Eleventh. Because in a universe that pits the Doctor and Rose Tyler apart, they always find their way back to each other.

He sees her, meets her brown eyes briefly, before quickly looking away. She's wearing her blue leather jacket, the one he knows she bought in memory of him on that parallel world, and the thought burns in his mind, jealousy of himself raging under his calm exterior. He hopes that she doesn't recognize this new face of his. Though she looks right past him, his hearts skip a beat and _he_ tries to make eye contact with her, while still hiding behind River and the Ponds. While still holding River's hand and pretending to be the doting husband that she remembered so long along in the Library. But River is looking strangely at him and spying past him, searching for the cause of his distraction. He tries to put it off but River can sense that something is not right. He wonders why he married her sometimes, knowing that when he finds out, he'll likely be in River's place, hiding information she hasn't experienced to preserve the timelines, hoping that she'll fall in love with him.

But _she's_ still here and he can see the changing timelines, can see a way to change his past because his past is her future and the future hasn't been written yet; he's the Lord of Time, her future can be whatever he wants it to be and even now, hundreds of years later, he still misses her – he still regrets forcing her to stay in that other universe with his and Donna's metacrisis. But that hasn't happened for her yet, Rose is still searching for that other him, the one still with two hearts, but also the warm brown eyes and the spikey hair and _sideburns_. His hearts yearn for her and as he's staring at her, she looks him in the eye and he sees a spark of recognition, he knows that she recognizes him despite his green eyes and floppy hair and suddenly she's sprinting towards him, pushing past all the ordinary people who have no idea that they are about to witness the greatest reunion in history. He abandons the Ponds, running to meet her; he doesn't notice until she's in his arms that he's sobbing her name.

"My Doctor," she smiles, tears threatening to spill down her cheek. He waits for them to fall before wiping them away with his thumbs, cradling her face between his hands.

"_Rose_," he finally breathes, his head spinning, not from a lack of oxygen (thank evolution for Gallifreyan respiratory bypasses) but the sight of seeing _her_ one last time.

"I love you," she reminds him, her voice surprisingly steady. She's said the words so many times, never to hear them back. Never when she travelled with him. Not when she met him before he knew whom she was. Or even from his future self, though she'd felt him come close in telling her his name. She runs a hand through his hair, softly kissing his cheek.

He knows that this is his last chance to tell her those three stupid words. When would he ever have a chance to see her again? (Hint: Chapter 33). "Rose Tyler," he starts, only to be silenced by lips locking onto his. His face is wet and the Doctor realizes he is crying. He cups her face shakily and looks into her warm hazel eyes and he reinitiates the kiss; the Time Lord doesn't think about time, because in this instance, he wishes it could stop forever and create a bubble for him and his Rose.


	48. Stupid

Stupid

Person A has low self-esteem but keeps it hidden from Person B. A starts crying one night, B tries comforting A. A calls self 'stupid'. B tells A they wish A could love them self the way B loves A.

A/N: This prompt seemed like it would work really well for both the Doctor and Rose.

The Doctor often spent the hours that a companion slept wandering the halls of the TARDIS, tinkering in various rooms. Always on the lookout for his next distraction, the Doctor. Not always intentionally - he loved spending time with his companions - but the Doctor was a restless man. Never one to stay content in one place, he had ran away with his granddaughter in a stolen TARDIS to spend the rest of his lives away from the confinement of the stuffy Time Lords. He would never admit to Rose that the fact that anybody he had ever cared about left pierced his hearts in stabbing pain, or that, the coward that he was, he had allowed some eight hundred years elapse without contact since promising said granddaughter that he would visit her. The Doctor felt water drip down his face and was glad that he was alone; glad that he could hide his most frail self from his companion.

"Stupid old Time Lord," he muttered. He was a coward, too scared to even say hello to his own granddaughter. Too much of a coward to face her after so many centuries, knowing that he'd broken his promise to come back to her. Too much of a coward to go back and see her happily married. He hoped she was happy. Susan knew the TARDIS number, surely she would have telephoned had something been wrong. The Doctor shook his head. Susan was probably having a fantastic life with David, she probably wouldn't have time for an old man like himself, he reasoned, knowing that he was wrong, at the same time wondering why he couldn't even visit his Susan.

"You're the smartest person I've ever met, so don't go around calling yourself stupid, Doctor." A hand wrapped around his and the Doctor looked up to see Rose sitting beside him on the jump seat. "Why can't you see yourself how I see you, then? You're brilliant. Not just intellectually, though that too. You're a fantastic friend," Rose emphasized 'fantastic', knowing that it was his favourite word. "And you go around thinking that you're a coward, when you're the bravest man I've ever known." She squeezed the Doctor's hand.

"I'm not some pretty boy, Rose, no need to suck up," he replied morosely.

"You go out there, every day, and make a difference in the universe, Doctor." Rose said firmly. She crooked her free arm over the Doctor's shoulders and hugged him.

It had never occurred to Rose that the Doctor's self-deprecating humour was a coping mechanism until now. "Could even say that you're a hero," she trailed off as the Doctor stiffened. "You're the only person I've ever known well enough to be my personal hero. You know that my Dad died when I was a baby and that nobody that Mum dated could ever reach the pedestal that I put him upon. And then I met you," Rose looked up at the Doctor, eyes shining. "And you showed me things beyond my wildest dreams, but most importantly, you showed me how to care. And if there's one thing that I know about you Doctor, it's that you care. About everyone. And I really think that if you could care for yourself half as well as you care for others, you'd be a better man." The Doctor allowed Rose to pull him to his feet, eventually noticing that she had led him to the galley, a fresh pot of tea steeping on the counter. He pressed a soft kiss to his companion's head, accepting a mug of tea prepared just the way he liked it (splash of milk, no sugar).

No A levels, no job, no future. Rose had nothing left at home, so she was curious as to why her travelling bothered her mum and Mickey so. Jackie knew all this and Rose knew this, but it didn't make it hurt any less when her mother said it. Rose had said as much herself when she'd first met the Doctor, swinging across the Henrick's basement to help a stranger deal with living plastic.

And though her troubles didn't stop when she began travelling with the Doctor, they began to seem more inconsequential. So what if she didn't have her A levels? She still helped the Doctor to save the day, sometimes managing to do so even without his help. Rose knew that she wasn't a complete idiot, in spite of all the Doctor's talk about stupid apes. She'd been traveling with him for a few weeks when he'd taken her, against his better judgement, to see her dad. When he'd tried to leave, she had been in shock, his words numbing her and not truly sinking in until well after he had returned.

"Aren't you going to rub it in, then?" Rose all but hissed at the Doctor. "Take me back to the estate. I'm just a stupid ape, after all." She stood by the door, as if waiting for the Doctor to pull them from the vortex, hiding the tears that began to stream down her face.

"Do you want to go?" The Doctor asked, his hearts sinking at the thought of Rose leaving him.

"S better this way," Rose muttered.

"Everyone makes mistakes, Rose." The Doctor said kindly.

"Most people aren't stupid enough to almost end the world when they make a mistake," Rose replied darkly, trying to mask the lump that was rising in her throat.

Despite all that she had done in her time onboard the TARDIS, Rose still thought that she was "just another stupid ape," Rose's voice pulled him from his brief reverie.

"You're not," he said sharply. "Adam was a stupid ape. You're, Rose, you're fantastic." After all their adventures, how could Rose not see how much good she had done? That she was, despite her rough teenhood, one of the most compassionate people he had ever met. He threw a lever on the console, the TARDIS knowing exactly where her Thief wanted to take her Wolf. "Come with me," the Doctor leads Rose to her bedroom, where the TARDIS has prepared several possible outfits for Rose. "Meet me in the entrance when you're ready," the Doctor says gently, hugging Rose and softly kissing her forehead.

A/N: Just to be super clear here, the second half of this ficlet is right before they visit Woman Wept.


	49. Dancing

Tag otpprompts otpprompts writing

Imagine your OTP going to Prom (or a dance or some sort of formal event) and Person A being very excited about it. For whatever reason, something bad happens at the event (could be a wardrobe malfunction or a bad encounter with someone or the event generally not being as nice as they hoped) and they end up going home early and quite upset. Later on, Person B puts on some music and Person A and Person B dance in their living room.

A/N: The build up to the main part of the story ended up being much longer than I had anticipated, and then Rose surprised me by making this happen now, not in the past. I'm pretty certain that this is my first piece that I've written in present tense.

"Never been to a formal before," Rose admits breathlessly, still looking around in wonder. The Doctor had already surmised as much, as Rose had left school with Jimmy Stone by Sixth Form.

"You look beautiful," he tells her, still astounded at how lucky he was to be her partner at this dance, that she hadn't found some stupid pretty boy to go off with and cause trouble. Rose smiles, shyly at first but it widens into what should be a trademarked Rose Tyler Smile TM.

"For a human," she laughs, her tongue poking between her teeth.

No, he wants to tell her. You are beautiful. "Rose Tyler," he starts, but instead of finishing his sentence, the Doctor grins and for Rose there is no sight as gorgeous as the Doctor is when he is happy and his smile is blindingly bright. It is in these moments that Rose allows herself to hope that her wildest dreams are somehow mutual; that there is some way that the Doctor could be falling for her the way she is for him.

Of course, aliens crashing the party interrupt their brief moment of peace and they are soon running for their lives, the Oncoming Storm and the Bad Wolf saving the day. A very normal day for the Doctor and his companion. Still, he thinks wistfully, it would be nice if danger and trouble didn't pop out at _every_ corner. Particularly when you are dancing a very _romantic_ piece with your companion.

They end up back at the TARDIS; Rose is breathless from both the excitement and running in heels. Rose excuses herself to go to the loo – a cool bath, she thinks, is in order. The Doctor mutters something about doing some repairs under the console and starts pulling up the grating, absolutely not staring at Rose's backside as she walks down the corridor. He reaches for his screwdriver, and then remembers that he had left it in his jacket. The Doctor gropes around the jump seat, pulling material down when he feels worn leather under his fingers. The sonic falls down and he stares at it for a moment, remembering the start of their evening and wanting to begin again, before trouble had caught up to them.

"The Time Lord losing track of time?" Rose teases as she comes back into the entrance room, seeing the Doctor still sitting in the grating, absently staring past the coral struts. "Thought you were gonna do some repairs."

The Doctor shortly replies that he had had matters that were more pressing on his mind. Which, from his subjective viewpoint, was true. He notices that Rose has changed into pyjamas and asks if she is on her way to bed.

"No," Rose looks down, as if surprised by her attire. "Just put something comfy on after a bath." She tugs a brush through her tangled hair, wincing as it audibly breaks some strands. The Doctor impulsively takes the hairbrush from Rose and pats the jump seat. Rose smiles, muttering "Thanks," as she crosses her legs. It only takes a few minutes for the Time Lord to comb Rose's hair and deftly twist it into a braid. As he is fastening the hair clip, the lights dim.

"What are you doing, old girl?" He asks, finishing tying the clip. The room is bathed in a warm red light, complementing the gold interior and music begins to play. The Doctor looks unimpressed.

"What's going on?" Rose directs her question to the Doctor.

"I don't remember finishing our dance, Rose Tyler." The Doctor replies. Rose is momentarily caught off-guard by his mood swing, but smiles. "As I recall, this song was just starting when all the… commotion started tonight," Rose's smile widens, catching on to what the Doctor was hinting at. She holds out her hand, arching an eyebrow as if silently daring the Time Lord to take it.

He does and then they are twirling around the room as Glenn Miller's _In the Mood_ begins. "We danced to this during the Blitz," Rose laughs, remembering the jealousy he had exhibited when she and Jack had attempted this song in the TARDIS.

"Our first dance," the Doctor says, his Northern brogue thick with poorly hidden emotion.

"You had two left feet," Rose teases.

"Oi. Nine hundred years old, me, it had been a while." The Doctor replies, wounded.

"Oh, okay, I forgive you," Rose says dramatically as he picks her up by her waist and twirls her around. "But _only_ because you're a senior citizen."

"I am _not_ a _senior citizen_," the Doctor says cheekily. Rose raises an eyebrow.

"Nine hundred years old, me," she imitates.

"I'm…late middle-aged," he finally says contemplatively.

"You still have two left feet," Rose half-laughs, half-grimaces as the Doctor steps on her foot. "You think you're so impressive."

Her eyes are shining brilliantly and she is positively radiant with her blinding smile, tongue poking through her teeth. It would be so simple to bend down, dip her and capture her lips in his own, but he doesn't. It would so simple to whisper three stupid little words to her, his lips brushing against her ear, but he doesn't.

"I _am_ so impressive," the Doctor lifts Rose into the air, higher than before.

"Just a little," she allows a smile to once more brilliantly grace her features.

"I suppose that I'll just have to show you my moves," the Doctor cups her face in his hands and touches his forehead to hers. He feels Rose's arms wrap around his neck and he runs his down her back; he feels her lips ghost his own and before he can think with his head, his lips are already pressing down on hers. "Rose," he murmurs against her lips, capturing her upper lip as his mouth forms the word. He picks her up again and they make their way to the nearest room.

When Jack found his way back to the TARDIS the next morning, the door leading away from the console room was firmly locked.

A/N: The Doctor being late middle-aged is postulated from his being more than half through his regeneration cycle (being the tenth incarnation of the Doctor, he still has three regenerations available [Ten, Ten again, and Eleven]), his claim of being 900 in series one, and from the Time Lord Wikipedia page:

In Pyramids of Mars, the Fourth Doctor considers an age of 750 years to be "middle-aged". In "The Stolen Earth", the Tenth Doctor refers to when his original incarnation was a "kid" at 90 years old. After 200, they wouldn't be considered young.


	50. Strawberry Jello

Imagine your OTP skinny-dipping in a pool filled with strawberry-flavored Jell-O via .com. This could be considered NSFW-ish.

"You," Rose says pointedly, "are mad. Completely barmy. Bonkers."

"Oh yes," the Doctor replies, shaking his head while beaming manically.

"How'd you even, no, you know what, I don't want to know," Rose laughs, staring at the plastic blow-up pool that was currently sitting in their bedroom. She has her suspicions as to what the pool is filled with and sticks her finger in the red gelatin; she swallows the goop and laughs again. "I don't think I could ever eat this much Jell-O in one sitting."

"Good thing I'm here then." The Doctor has Rose's hand in his now; he flicks his tongue against her skin, obnoxiously slurping the remaining Jell-O from her hand. "Oh! Here, put these on," he says excitedly, handing Rose a pair of plastic swimming goggles. "And I'd suggest taking your clothes off," the Doctor smirks, "unless you'd rather throw them out due to the terrible red stains that they are otherwise about to acquire." Rose strips as slow as possible, feeling the Doctor's stare burning her backside. She leaves her knickers on (A/N: honestly, I'm pretty sure that no one would ever want to be naked while in a pool of Jell-O. Just no) and steps into the pool.

The Jell-O is cool against her skin. Rose rolls it out across her legs, marvelling at the unique sensation and is acutely aware of the Jell-O that is matting the Doctor's chest hairs. She pokes at an untouched place of Jell-O, her hand easily sliding through the viscous solid, and brings the gelatin to the Doctor's mouth. He drinks in greedily, his eyes never leaving hers, and when the Jell-O is mostly gone, he kisses her palm – once, twice, after the third kiss he moves up to her wrist. He covers her arm with kisses, noisily slurping the Jell-O, and makes his way over her shoulder; his tongue trails across her collarbone and up her neck. He gently bites down on her lip and Rose feels the smell of gelatin soaking into his face, his pores. The smell of strawberry is becoming overwhelming and Rose revels in it. She caresses the Doctor's shoulders, rubbing the Jell-O firmly into his skin, skin that is red, stained by the gelatin and flushed. He kisses her again, harder, and she vaguely thinks about how hot he is, naked but for the 'brainy specs' and all red and hot and bothered. It's all very steamy, until some Jello gets stuck in the Doctor's nose and he splutters, eventually spraying the pool with sneeze.

They make their way eagerly to the shower.


	51. Spring is in the Air

It was a typical spring afternoon, about ten degrees and slightly overcast. The crocuses were just beginning to blossom and Rose Tyler couldn't be happier. It was almost her first anniversary of staying in this world with her Doctor and over the past year, Rose had learned about and grown to love this new new Doctor. She couldn't help but laugh softly in marvel of her good fortune, and looked over at her Doctor, splayed over the picnic blanket absent-mindedly munching dried bananas. Rose leaned over and brushed her lips against his cheek.

"What was that for?" The Doctor smiled, reaching up to gently tuck a stray hair behind Rose's ear.

"Nothing. I'm just, happy." Rose laced her fingers through the Doctor's. "We've been here, together, for a year."

"Stuck here, planet-side, on the slow path, for an entire year?" The Doctor teased.

"Not a bad life," Rose grinned, her tongue poking through her teeth.

"Better with two," the Doctor replied, leaning over to snog her. Rose sighed happily and eagerly returned his kiss. The Doctor gently pushed her until she was laying on her back in the dewed grass. Rose ran her fingers absently through the Doctor's hair as they snogged, leaning into the moment. Neither noticed the rainbow that began to form as the sun emerged from behind the rainclouds.


	52. Winter Tales

Via otpdisaster:

Person A frolicking happily through the snow–perhaps seeing it for the first time–as Person B watches, more content with relaxing/observing. Person B looks away for one second and Person a jumps into a bed of freshly fallen snow, only to discover that it's at least four feet deep. Person B glances back up to find A flailing their arms, stuck waist-deep in snow.

Via the-otp-feels:

Imagine your OTP cuddling in front of the fireplace.

Rose was more than happy to observe the Doctor engage in a snowball fight against Pete and Tony from the relative safety of the back porch. Though he was outnumbered, the Doctor was holding his own, alternating between prepping snowballs, fighting off advancing attacks, and throwing his own snowballs. He was doing fairly well, until Tony caught him with a face full of snow. "Mmmph!" The Doctor spluttered. Tony took the lack of return fire as a sign to tackle the Doctor, and Rose laughed as her husband fell face-first into his snow fort. Rose reckoned that he was surrounded by about four feet of snow, though the walls of his fort were starting to collapse. Tony was standing beside the Doctor, laughing at the sight of his brother covered in snow. Rose smiled and quickly snapped a picture of the pair with her phone, before going inside to put the kettle on; the Doctor was definitely going to want a cup of tea when he finally came inside.

The Doctor, meanwhile, was being buried alive. Tony Tyler was using the packed snow from the crumbling fortress to cover him. "Okay, Tony, let me up." He could feel his body growing colder as the child continued to make a snow mound. "Have I told you about the Ice Warriors yet, Tony?"

"Nope." Tony dropped a handful of snow onto the Doctor's face. The Doctor sneezed.

"Well, let's make a snow Ice Warrior. Ooo, we could make Snow Warriors and Snow Daleks and Snow Cybermen. Well, maybe not Cybermen. Snow legs don't tend to work. What do you say?" The Doctor attempted to give Tony something else to do with snow that did not involve himself being stuck under a pile of the white stuff.

"Nope." Tony packed more snow on top of the Doctor. "Look," he pointed at the miniature snowman that he had made atop the Doctor's snow-covered chest.

"Tony!" Jackie called from the house.

"Coming, Mum!" The little boy cried happily, patting one more handful of snow onto the Doctor. He skipped up to the house, almost running into his sister, who had come to an abrupt stop on the patio. "Doctor's covered in snow!" He sang, beaming.

"I can see that," Rose stifled a snicker. She took her mobile from her pocket, blatantly taking another photo of her husband. Rose shooed her brother into house and went to excavate the Doctor. "Can't get up?" She teased.

"Didn't want to ruin his fun, is all. I c-could have gotten up at any minute," he said breathlessly, shaking from the cold.

"Right, well, let's get you inside. Don't need you to go and catch your death of cold." Rose didn't think that she could stand it if he spent another week moaning and complaining about weak human bodies. The Doctor made a face.

"Felt like I was dying," he muttered, still shivering. Rose draped his arm over her shoulder and walked with him up to the house.

"Tea ought to be ready, I'd put the kettle on," she said, smiling as they walked into the mudroom. "You, go put some dry clothes on. Be up in a minute." The Doctor kissed her cheek appreciatively, awkwardly changing out from his soaked jeans and grabbing a towel, before heading up the stairs to their bedroom.

Rose went back to the kitchen and put the teapot and two mugs on a tray. The gas fireplace in the bedroom was already on and Rose put the tea tray on the nearby table when she walked in, just as the Doctor exited the loo in his robe. "Come on," she grabbed some pillows and the duvet from the bed.

Rose sighed as the Doctor leaned against her, his cool body slowly warming under the blanket. The empty tea tray was waiting to be taken downstairs by the door. She rested her hand on his chest, his single heartbeat soothing, and listened contently to his steady breathing.


	53. In the Infirmary

Thanks to lizziea2 on Tumblr for the prompt:

Ten and Rose in the TARDIS infirmary. She's giving him first aid for cuts and bruises incurred during an adventure and she kisses his injured shoulder (which leads to other kisses.)

"Hold still," Rose gently took the Doctor's hand to stop him picking at the bandage on his shoulder. "Whatever happened to superior Time Lord biology?" She quipped, recalling their easy banter from his last regeneration.

The Doctor winced as Rose gently wiped the dried, crusty blood that had dripped down his arm. "It's almost clean," she promised.

"I trust you," the Doctor said.

"I should hope so. I only know how to do this cause you taught me, remember? So it's really yourself you ought to trust." Rose turned to toss the dirtied dressings in the trash and found the Doctor scratching the bandages.

"You're not supposed to do that," she said gently, taking his hand in her.

"I thought I was the Doctor round here," he jested. He winced, having automatically reached up with his free hand to run it through his hair.

"Tell you what," Rose said with exaggerated thoughtfulness. "Mum used to do this when I got into scrapes." Hesitating slightly, Rose smoothed the bandage with her other hand and pressed her lips to the fabric. "All better."

"Not really," the Doctor murmured. "Still hurts."

"Maybe a little extra medicine," Rose replied breathlessly, kissing the Doctor's injured arm once more. She traced the bruises that still lingered on his slender frame, her fingers making the lightest contact on his bare skin. Rose tried to ignore the shiver that ran down her back as she touched him and told herself that she'd imagined the gooseflesh that had momentarily appeared on his skin. She kissed each bruise. The Doctor could feel her lips briefly capture his skin in her mouth – he wondered if she relished the way he tasted, how he was savouring the sensation of her lips sucking his arm. He wondered what she was thinking. He wondered if she liked the hair on the back of his manly hairy hand that extended up his arms and across his chest. He wondered a great many things while Rose Tyler kissed each blemish that was on his skin. He wonders how Rose ended up in his arms and soon he forgets the amazement and lays peacefully with her on the too narrow infirmary table, both of them pressing soft, tender kisses on the other's body.


	54. Leftover Breakfast

"For breakfast, though?" Rose wrinkled her nose.

"It's covered in bananas. Bananas are good, Rose." The Doctor forked another hunk of chocolate cake to his mouth. "Want some?" He asked around the mouthful.

"No, thanks." Rose shuddered, going around the table to make some tea and toast.

"In many cultures around the galaxy, including several on your own planet, leftovers are the preferred breakfast food." The Doctor licked from his lips, smearing it across.

"Not in England," Rose shuddered, taking a sip of her tea.

"Not _in_ England," the Doctor gestured at the TARDIS' kitchen. Rose made a face. The Doctor devoured another forkful of cake.

"You're going to get sick," Rose said smugly, enjoying her own breakfast.

"Superior biology, Rose," the Doctor boasted proudly. Rose snickered. She hadn't heard him make that claim since before his regeneration. Idly, she wondered if the Doctor in leather would eat banana chocolate cake first thing in the morning. Somehow, she doubted it.

Rose finished her toast in silence, watching as the Doctor continued to pick at the cake.

"Are you actually planning on finishing that now?' Rose asked, incredulous. It was one thing to have a slice of cake first thing in the morning. It was quite different to consume an entire cake (minus two slices) for no apparent reason other than want.

"Yeah. Why, did you want some?" The Doctor cut another thick slice from the remaining bunt.

"No. Not really." Rose replied truthfully. She didn't think she could eat cake again for a long time after watching this chocolate monstrosity be eaten by one person in one go. Even if the Doctor wasn't human, all that cake couldn't be good for him. Rose washed her dishes in silence, letting the Doctor finish the dessert in peace. She reckoned it was the last bit of peace she'd have, once the after effects of the Doctor's chocolate breakfast made themselves known. "I'm going… somewhere. Whatever the TARDIS wants to show me. Ladies' day in," Rose joked, though she truly didn't want to be with the Doctor when he started to feel sick. Let him suffer a little, she thought, it won't do him any harm. The TARDIS hummed in agreement, and so Rose went off exploring.

The equivalent of an hour and a half later, Rose was directed to a closed door. "He's in there, isn't he?" She asked the TARDIS, whose answering hum was a resounding affirmative. "He can't say I didn't warn him," she muttered before entering the room to find the Doctor hunched over a toilet, convulsing under a thin blanket. Rose stayed with him as the vomiting subsided, eventually leading him to the next room to lay on a sofa. She sat with him, though he protested the 'sick treatment' due to his 'superior biology', until he fell asleep. Rose kissed his forehead, smiling as she shook her head, and retired to an armchair with a magazine to wait for the Doctor to awaken.


	55. Parental Guidance

The Doctor walked to the refrigerator lazily, the hot sun heating the already scorching kitchenette. He grabbed the milk carton and a banana, slowly stripped the banana's skin, and ran his tongue down the side, savouring the flavour.

"Doctor!" Rose flew into the tiny kitchen. "Mum and Dad are going to be here in ten minutes, are you ready?" She stopped short, flushing as she caught sight of the Doctor in nothing but his pants. Rose leaned against the doorframe to admire the view when she remembered the reason she'd come into the kitchen. "My parents will be arriving in ten minutes, so would you please put some clothes on?" She groaned.

"As I recall, your mum liked this face when she first saw it. Who's to say she won't like the rest?" The Doctor drawled, running his hands up his bare thighs to rest them on his hips. Rose flushed.

"And as I recall, you never liked my mother, with or without this face." She replied, realizing that the Doctor was sidestepping the issue. Rose walked over to the Doctor and lightly traced the lines on his abdomen. The Doctor's all-too-human body betrayed his arousal.

"You sure that you want me clothed," the Doctor's voice deepened and grew darker. Rose closed her eyes, telling herself to focus.

"Unless you want my _mother_ to see _this_," she nimbly teased the Doctor's growing erection. The Doctor growled with discontent and began to fiercely trail kisses down Rose's neck. She leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his neck, threading her fingers in his hair, and he picked her up, setting her on the table. He caressed her body and she folded her legs around his waist, getting as close as she could.

Jacqueline Andrea Suzette Tyler had never before beheld such a sight and she never wished to again. In fact, as she headed back up to the main house, Jackie wished that she could pour bleach on her brain and purge all memory of what she had just seen.


	56. The Power of Fate

.com

Imagine your OTP are friends who dare each other to get their fortunes told. The fortune teller then tells them that they are destined lovers - and that they will soon be brought together by the powers of fate. Of course, the OTP doesn't believe it.

What follows is a strange series of events that suggest that fate really is bringing them together. Maybe a bouquet of flowers falls from the back of a bicycle and your OTP catch it, like at a wedding. Maybe they're paired up for trust exercises, and one has to catch the other. Maybe they want to have a movie night in, but the only chocolate they can get happens to have hearts and pink packaging on it.

Bonus if your OTP (or at least one person) keep shrugging off the events as they get more and more ridiculous.

The Doctor scoffed. Fortune tellers were always off the mark. He'd told Rose that no one, not even the Time Lords, could truly see the future; time was constantly in flux. He didn't understand why Rose had chosen to visit a fortune teller, especially so soon after the Devil had said she was to die in battle. That timeline was one he was keen not to see.

"It's all a bunch of rubbish," he had said, his voice still hollow with the memory of the Beast's scarily accurate reading of Rose. The valiant child…to die in battle… But Rose _had_ died in battle, the Bad Wolf had made certain of that. And Bad Wolf had brought her back. Well, he had taken the Time Vortex from her head when she was Bad Wolf, but Rose was safe and that fact calmed the flutter in his hearts.

Fate. What did that old Kastelldellion know about fate, anyway, especially when compared to the lone Lord of Time? And yet, the Doctor couldn't deny that he was constantly amazed by his pink and yellow companion. And that that amazement was accompanied by pride and affection and… No. He couldn't admit it to himself. He cared for Rose Tyler. Yes. But the Doctor dared not think past his affection. Affection, he could control, he could remain friends with his companion.

He thought back to taking Rose to see her parents' wedding, so soon after they'd first met and yet they had experienced so much together already. Though they'd been standing far off to the side, Rose had caught her mother's bouquet. Embarrassed, she'd given it to the girl beside her. He'd smiled, glad that Rose wasn't looking up, glad that she didn't see the softness that spread across his face, glad that she couldn't feel his hearts skipping beats like the stereotypical teenage girl in Earthly romcoms.

He couldn't deny that they had chemistry. He was very attracted to her, a feeling that had only been strengthened during his regeneration. It was also now expected that most people believed the pair to be sexually and/or romantically linked. Even the TARDIS had joined the fun in this last item. She would redecorate whatever room that she thought would give the duo an opportunity to discuss their non-relationship relationship.

If everyone could see something sparking between the Doctor and his companion, then surely Rose must feel something for him, the way he felt for her.

If they had been meant to be together, why had fate allowed her to be literally ripped from his side into the Void?

Rose, his brilliant pink and yellow human, united them once more. Fate had nothing to do with it; it was all Rose – perseverance, time, patience, and love.

Brought together once more, only for him to send her away again. The universe was cruel, but, at the same time, so kind. Perhaps it _was_ fate. He'd said it himself, after all.

"_You can spend the rest of your life with me, but I can't spend the rest of mine with you. And that's the curse of the Time Lords."_

Fate. The Doctor laughed hollowly. She was sealed in another universe with another him. It would have been scary to realize how accurate his statement had been, if he believed in fate.

He reminded himself that she would be happy. In the other universe. With her Mum, and Dad, and Mickey, and the Meta-Crisis. She'd be spending the rest of her life with a man who called himself the Doctor, with brown hair and sideburns, and a penchant for bananas. A man, with one heart and one life, who would tell her how special she is every day, who would kiss her at every opportunity, who would treasure every single moment because he knows what it's like to live without her.


	57. Moment in Time

His lips barely touch hers, he's hesitant, but Rose can feel his cool breath on her mouth and she reaches up to stroke his hair, guiding his head closer to hers. He whispers her name and smiles, his brilliant blue eyes shining as they look at her. He blocks out everything except her, what she feels like at this moment in time. Her hands trail down his face, coming to rest on his breast, and she allows the sound of his double heartbeat to soothe her. She looks into his ancient steel-blue eyes and sees happiness and love and warmth; he looks into her young brown ones and sees the same. Their lips meet after what seems an eternity to Rose; the Doctor is aware of all twenty thousand milliseconds. He basks in the heat of her touch, she kisses him before he kisses her. They are both slow, tender. The sparks aren't flying yet, but the embers come to life. His hands slowly move down her arms, taking her smaller hands within his own and raises them to his lips. His eyes never leaving hers, he kisses her hands. She wraps her arms around him, smiling, as he runs his hands over her arms. She realizes she truly, deeply loves him, her hand clutches at his jumper. The thought scares her, but she doesn't dwell on it; she is safe as long as she's with him. He realizes that he loves her, the thought terrifies him, but her hand moves, rubbing small circles on his shoulder under his jumper.


	58. Kiss Me

"Kiss me," Rose asks hoarsely, licking her chapped lips. "Please."

The Doctor knows before he turns to look at her that any attempt to deflect her is doomed. "Rose," he says, his voice deep.

"Doctor." She says his name, and he finally makes eye contact with her. "I need you to," she pauses. "I thought that you said that you were still the same."

With that, he crosses the console room and takes her in his arms. "I am," he reassures her, pulling her close. Rose rests her head against his chest, feeling the familiar double heartbeat of a Time Lord.

"He kissed me," she says, and it breaks his hearts. Because he _did_ kiss her. Even before the one that she shouldn't remember, he kissed her. He kissed her forehead. He kissed her lips. They'd, he now realized too late, been building a relationship that was more that just friends. For once, the Doctor and his companion had been more than just travelling mates – they had been falling in love. As equals, as partners.

"Rose Tyler," he bites his bottom lip, then breaks into a smile. He sees the future branching off, he sees his future, no, _their _future – a clear path straight ahead.

"Doctor," she says, her voice questioning, unsure.

He says no more, and lightly peppers her face with kisses. Rose laughs, and stands on her toes to reach his lips.


End file.
